Sexus (2003)

medium: etched bricks
dimensions: variable

This work collages a few lines from the infamous Henry Miller novel, Sexus: The Rosy Crucifixion (1949), which I happened to stumble upon one day in a used book store. The piece is in no way a true "quote" from the text, but rather is a suturing together of a string of words that collectively comments on the often struggled act of writing, of the way in which language can build and fall apart. Deciding to reveal the 'source' of inspiration here through my choice of title was a decision based less around a need to align myself with the novel in question, as much as it was a desire to allude to a circumstantial connection to the man. It is an interesting coincidence that as creators, Miller and I share a rather rarified cultural linkage: both of us have faced moments of public accusation, a legal crow cry of 'obscenity' against the relevance of our artistic production ­ Miller for Tropic of Capricorn and myself for the Headtrip fanzine which I published in my late teens. Though generations and worlds apart, both of us successfully navigated these terrible moments of public challenge. And for me, the experience solidified my determination to dedicate my life to this rather confusing road of "making strange".

Despite criticisms of this nature, Henry Miller can be seen an important literary figure whose novels had a liberating influence on mid-20th century literature. In his autobiographical works Miller created a myth out of his own life; of Sexus, Miller had this to say as a self-defense on his work: "If it was no good, it was true; if it was not artistic, it was sincere; if it was in bad taste, it was on the side of life." This sentiment is one that I would wish to apply to all of my cultural production!