Gooey, flowing, wet, stagnant, and slipping into place. The surfaces of cloth, paint, plastic, and paper move along like the dirty Des Plaines River. I witness the places where nature and discarded design make art.

Great graphic surfaces form next to toppled trees, where deer will die and mushrooms will emerge. We throw things away while daily drama unfolds. In Schiller Woods South, commercial scraps go down the river, and its misty waters carry styrofoam rafts. It is still beautiful, it is tragic, it is a high-speed blender.