SKIN
What started out as static surfaces were eventually covered with skin, hide or shell. The smooth exteriors of the polished BLOB sculptures were disguised under a corrupt material. The bellies and breasts appear to be moving, breathing, chaotic beneath their alien substance.  
Cosmic spiderwebs stretch out in every direction as they possess a space that is barely containable. Fragile yet impregnable, flowing yet bone-hard, they span both microscopically small and monumentally huge planes.  
The viewer may be reminded of the fleshy textures of Francis Bacon, or recognise a tribute to Eadweard James Muybridge, who pioneered moving images with his zoopraxiscope. 
These mutations of skin and hide, man-made fossils—from within or outside of known evolutionary processes, whether intentional or the fruits of blind chance—demonstrate their viability in an array of universes. Unabashedly radiating garish colours, they ask about the meaning of their existence: are they, as they seem, part of a dystopian landscape, taking first breaths in the silence following a cosmic storm? Or are they the pulpy beginnings of a new technological era?