Few sights are more startling than a bare firewall. Its power is comparable to that of a human face. An unfavorable profile belying the façade, it’s a no man’s land, a nape, a naked back. A blank page in a book. The house-shaped shape of a house — a tautology. Silhouette, cross-section drawing, plane exposed, painterly texture, finely detailed relief, sculptural object. An upward arrow pointing to the sky and the icon of our home on earth, the house.

My Homes (2013—) present these entities as individuals in their own right, liberated from the urban environment and the dense fabric of the adjoining buildings. Each is restored on clean white sheets, an attribute shared with the drawings of children and architects, evoking a range of possible attitudes toward reality like awe and wonder, play, dream, or design, assembly and demolition.

As a sphere in-between, Homes connects the opposite extremes of Skies and Grounds. The unfinished trilogy witnesses the involuntary return of an antiquated, tripartite worldview.