This piece usually goes by 'Untitled' because I never want to explain the long version, but it also has a mouthful of a name that is a direct quote from Art as Experience by John Dewey: 'When a flash of lightning illuminates a dark landscape, there is a momentary recognition of objects.' This project had definite perimeters regarding time, and a specific budget; I received a grant from the sculpture department that allowed me to buy all the wood and building supplies I needed. I started with a loose sketch of the floor plan, then spent a month and a half scavenging, collecting forms, and casting ceramic pieces to supplement what I had already found at thrift stores and on the street. I then spent a week in the gallery installing - arranging, playing, and letting my mind work out whatever challenges came up. I was pretty amazed at what I learned about my process, and in some ways, that's exactly what this piece was to me - a great way to sift through how I work, and a way to clarify some things. The entire installation was only up for about a day; the opening was three hours long and took place on July 16th, 2009. The morning after that I tore it down. I was thinking about how fleeting our memories and moments of nostalgia are, and I liked the tragic quality found in spending two months on making something, then only letting it exist for a really short period of time. It was not intended to become a shrine to the objects I worked with, but I think that's how it worked out for a lot of people. I wanted to make it disappear before it became completely mundane. A friend and I made an obscene amount of cupcakes for the opening and then arranged them in a way that seemed appropriate to the show.