48 x 192 in. 
Pencil and paint on drywall
2022

In a dream years ago, a jetliner crashing silently into the ground a few feet from. In my dream the plane plunged into the earth slowly, an inch or two each second. I could see, inside the plane, each person frozen in their terror, their peace, their readiness for death or their unreadiness. All were still in their moment of annihilation. Then the event turned 90 degrees, the plane crossing from right to left. There was no annihilation. Each person was instead thrust motionless through some barrier. On the right, all was lit with dull light of an airline cabin. To the left was darkness, but as each person passed through the barrier, they were transformed into ghostly blue forms of the bodies they'd left behind. These floated free in that dark space. 

Release interprets that dream, but left to right. From dozens of tracings of my body, layered haphazard, figures emerge and float through the barrier from light into darkness. Darkness is not dark; just peaceful. 

Destroyed