February 15, 2018: The day before I was to leave to go to my last living grandparents funeral. The weather permitted, and I do what I always do, ride bike to the beach. This practice was something I “always did”, but not in this way. The original work started in August of 2017. I made one of these for someone in the same place. Ruined quickly as hurricane season rumbled through. There were many changes in that area from Fall 2017 to Spring 2018. I didn’t intend to start a Beach Art practice, however, on that Thursday in February, so much was gone. My grandmother, the place we sat on the day we met, the dunes, the rusted posts sectioning off the dunes, all the wood posts that ran parallel with the ocean, some doubled as benches. It was decimated in the relative sense. As I wandered, it happened. I found a piece of rust, and other objects. I started anew. With each subsequent visit, It remained in tact, and I became consumed with it. And so began the process, tending to the ephemeral. In complete and total contrast to my other work, which confines detritus, this work is fluid. People interact with it, at first with no respect, now with as much as I could wish. Weather forever manipulates the pieces. Sixteen months of bike rides, at least twice a month, and as often as three times a week, through all elements and temperatures, tending into the second summer of this work. The Beach Art is a reflection of the environment, our footprint on it, and a meditation on letting go.