‘Man I love not. I love that which devours him.’
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Night Flight (1931)

In our cynical Rube Goldberg*, we see things devouring other things, we devour ourselves, we devour each other. After the devouring, only the bones, the cores of things, remain; and their secrets can be revealed.

My current work compares Jewish and Aboriginal sacred symbologies from land.

* A convoluted mechanism built to carry out a mundane task.