There's never much to write about art - which is a funny thing for me to say, considering I used to make a living exclusively by writing about art. I suppose what I mean, is that there is nothing to say about my own. If art is the beginning of a conversation, then whatever I do must be the end of one. It is a physical manifestation of words I whisper only to the gods, to an empty house, or to a dead telephone line. I only ever make pages for dead things. It's a scrapbook of eulogies for what I never said out loud. A kind of counter-necromancy, just showering glitter over fresh graves.