It took me awhile to figure it out; to sort through what I call: The Rush. It is smog-filled, noisy and chaotic. Intoxicating and suffocating. It simultaneously tortures and excites. The polarized layers of debris are filthy, alarming, exhilarating, but alive. Is this multi-layered city an architectural disaster, whose turmoil loads the senses and then smothers them? I want the viewer to experience the frantic and obsessive force of city life. Although chaos is detrimental - it is anything but numbing. It is pulsating with energy. People are absent from the work deliberately. We are the people. We are invisible, yet we are trapped in this place where there is no oxygen and no escape. A wave of panic sweeps over us until we suddenly realize that this work reflects the pace of our own brain. The pace is deafening and we feel trapped under the layers of its rubble. As if driving into a dense cloud, the eye is unable to capture the large spectrum of images at the first blink. My aim is for the viewer’s eye to adjust slowly. It is a journey from darkness to light, from black to white. I created a three-dimensional surface by dipping printing waste and film into acrylic and glue, torching and melting them, then drawing and scratching into the layers with a razor. The fusion of these unconventional materials is affected by fluctuating external elements. I therefore never know what to expect. The use of destructive techniques reflects the same traits as urban life - the materials assimilate into the work, losing their identity in the same manner that city dwellers do, rendering them anonymous. At the same time, it is a journey deeper into our personal layers and past, our own thoughts and emotions. Perhaps if we dig deeper, we can find ourselves beyond the bustle, noise, chaos, and at last - beneath the surface.