"...But memory, as we all know, is very complicated. I may think that I am reconstructing a process, but I am of course already re-interpreting my construction. And I have forced events, forced memory, into a shape, a form, that ushers a falseness into memory that over time, though, will be interchangeable with real memory. My piece has, in fact, already changed the events of that summer. And how real is a memory that has been given visual form?
Visual form, like oral form, tends to replace memory, empty out memory—true memory cannot be transcribed because true memory must be forgotten in order to be remembered. And this is, after all, why I cut-out photographs. To avoid the solidification of memory around an image. To replace the snapshot with a more open form should release the memory and preserve it, but does it? Is that fountain a fountain of origins or a fountain that proclaims an end to true memory as it pours them out into space ? Are those birds flying through space, or frozen in time ? Does that canoe travel through life or is it anchored forever under a grey sky ? Perhaps what keeps the memories in motion is art, and why it must be through art that one remembers—and not through documents or snapshots. And while keeping memory trapped tight in our minds does indeed salvage it, safeguard its nobility, its fecundity remains in the mind and of the mind—and what of sight, sound smell, touch, and the neurological pathways that can be forged by them towards new memories, new perspectives? I guess there is no construction without destruction..."