Nonstop industry generates a soup of manufactured gadgets, posing the inherent ecological question of surviving with obsolete and somehow quasi-autonomous mountains of stuff. Also of interest, transhumanism and the vanity it suggests. 
I made prototypes from abandoned appliances, building an aesthetic and conceptual vocabulary. To collect discarded objects, I made an arrangement with Berkeley’s recycling center to scavenge raw materials for my sculpture. Salvaged objects are cleaned, dismantled, rebuilt. Shapes are modified: I add objects or sculpt appendages. True to their manufactured roots, the new objects are not necessarily recognizable. I treat the surfaces by painting, sanding and scratching, like a ravaged space capsule back on Earth. Then I sculpt extensions with electrical cords, latex tubing, steel wire, plastic, plaster or epoxy.
 The sculptures sit directly on the floor. Literally and figuratively, their base is the world we live in. Other Messengers hang on the wall, a cross between barnacles and masks. The Messengers is a series of +20 sculptures.