We are witness to the increasingly industrialised symbiosis of the human with the more than human world, leaving behind (and ahead) a trail of detritus, a grotesque entanglement of leaking bodies and spent intelligence. This work protrudes from a hypnogogic subconscious fantasy, searching for psychological mitigation for the abject shock of the past, and sweaty white-knuckled fear of the future. 

‘One job that fantasy can do is to lift us out of the unbearable humdrum and to distract us from terrors - real or anticipated - by an escape into the exotic [...]. But another of the things that fantasy can do is to normalise what is psychologically unbearable [...], inculcating a strange apathy concerning the process of [...] destruction which I for one find haunting and depressing. It is fantasy served out in large rations by the popular arts, which allows most people to cope with these twin specters’.