About

When I ask myself to think of a brick, I quickly think of bricks. I see a wall— my mind’s eye fills the frame K completely with the soothing geometry of brickwork, the patterning of deep reds and cement mortar— I can zoom in and out, but it’s all wall.

I’m seeing them in service, seeing the general functionality of an object without reverence to its materiality, to the umpteen trusted hands, processes, markets and social structures that enabled raw clay to arrive here in my mind as a vast and effortless wall. And there is thinking beyond this, to the delineations humanity has made, it’s …