I have a friend whose house is a living installation. I secretly call it “Pisces.” This is my kind of gallery! Its not a sterile, white walled receptacle for art business…  its  a tender, shining, dusty realm of the heart.

All surfaces and every  corner is littered with his expression. Even in the bathroom and kitchen! Cans or bits of wood are placed alondside random pages from a magazine. A toy found in a car park is paired with a dead butterfly or something he brought back from Mexico. And its always changing.


Every  object carries the sacred feeling he places on things with his sensitive attention.

This house is the epitome of one of  my main blur the boundary between the mundane and the spirit. And thats art.

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