This is a print of the original Boneyard of Unused Shapes. It will shipped rolled in a tube.
It has a mixed up appearance. Originally, without preconception, I highlighted the forms with shadow to give them a 3-dimensional sense. However now sometimes when I look at it I see a dark foreboding as though these are piles of bones from a Holocaust type event. Close-up you can see that none of the forms actually contain that thought. The feeling only comes when you stand back. Is the idea hidden in my subconscious that these relics are cast asides that still show their loving memory in their quiet forms? I wonder about my own subconscious still battling with mortality.