there will be velociraptors in version 2.0

It was spring…for about three days, and then Winter returned. No one is surprised. (But while it was warm, a couple trees dared to flower and add some color to the gray landscape!)

In English class yesterday, we had a timed essay–which was not so much an essay as writing an artist’s statement in a given amount of time. I’ve never done one of these; I’ve probably read maybe half a dozen official-like Artist Statements (caps and all), so really, I had very little idea of what one should be.

Therefore, I talked about robots. (The next incarnation will have dinosaurs. BECAUSE DINOSAURS.)

Chiaroscuro. It’s a word that encapsulates my work, my style, my voice. There is no contrast in the light unless you have the darkness.  So I write about the shadows; I write about what’s hidden inside the dark corners where we can’t easily see. Dual-wielding film and the written word as my tools of choice, I seek to create stories that linger, stories that crawl into your brain and whisper in your ear, stories that sink their teeth in your heart.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a robot when I grew up. I’d watch anything that involved robots, AI, androids, Transformers, cyborgs—machines that could be like humans, but were not bound by biology and the fallacies people exhibited. I liked the logic and the efficiency I saw in robots. (I empathized with a machine’s desire to understand humanity, because I didn’t get people either. I also wanted laser eyes.) As I grew up and it became increasingly obvious I wasn’t going to turn into a robot, I decided the next best thing was to tell stories–about robots and about people.

Film has unlimited visual potential to create the stories I want to tell. The written word is equally limitless. Between the two mediums, I have the tools to explore the darkness as well as the light. Chiaroscuro. I will paint in shadow, on film and with words, to tell the stories I must.  And there will definitely be robots.

Have you had to write an Artist’s Statement, or the equivalent, for something? I’m curious to hear from other people about this.


  1. I’ve never had to write an artist’s statement, but it might make for an interesting exercise if nothing else, as I’ve been feeling introspective about my work lately. I will say yours is definitely one of the nicest, least pretentious ones I’ve read, but then I haven’t read all that many, so take that with a grain of salt. 🙂

    And you’ve probably already seen this, but just in case… 😉


  2. I’ve never had to write an artist’s statement, but I like yours. And it is impressively coherent. 😀


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