Twenty years ago a few friends and I ran some speed and mobility tests on a bumpy dirt road. Propelled by curiosity, stupidity, ingenuity, naivety and a slight inkling that we weren’t the first, we created a sleek but idiotic mode of transport. Our wheels, pipes, boards, duct tape, twine and wire never went fast. In fact, much to our combined amusement and frustration, the whole chaotic mess barely moved.

            Now, when I look back at this childhood event and see a correlation between our desire to do something big and bold with an adult need to be heroic. Obstinate play and experimentation can lead to creativity and innovation. On the flip side, a search for the monumental and glorious has often brought on disaster.

            A simple example of this can be found in any history of exploration or experimentation, which inevitable wields a terrible and fascinating sword of both catastrophe and accomplishment. I find it impossible as a white American not to wonder about what my ancestors and I have wrought in this country. I delve into these convoluted ideas through the exhibited self-portraits and performances.

            In front on the lens, in elaborately dysfunctional gear, I act the protagonist who dreams big yet will probably fall far. With a nod to the Hudson River School’s romanticizing of land and documentary film’s hype of the explorer, I glorify this character and the subsequent events with large drawings and video dramas. As the central character, I also embroil myself in a history of aspiration filled with brilliant new finds and ignorant mistakes.