Death & Taxes

Tax time has come and gone.  We've declared our lives on paper and as I do every year, I shred expired years gone by.  This year I found myself also with the task of my mother's final taxes and discovering that she had kept all of her life on paper since the 1980s.  Wanting to purge, I began to shred, and shred, and shred.  That satisfying sound of automated blades produced bags of thin strips of paper and history.  Although I was ready to lighten my load and take this pile of recycling down to the curb, I hesitated, thinking "maybe there's something to be done with this?" I struggled with the idea of hoarding bags of paper, then decided to sleep on it.
My eureka moment came not too long after.  It was spring, my birthday was right around the corner, and the art bug has been biting my ass for a while.  Henceforth and prepare thyself an installation birthday party, in which we shall celebrate life, death, the end of winter and new things to come.

Friends at Cineground graciously lent me their under construction space to install three pieces that reflect on the theme of death and taxes, identity and commemorating the loss of dear family members.

Of course I couldn't keep that shredding satisfaction all to myself.  Attendees were encouraged to participate in the one night only installation by bringing own documents of confidential matters that they wished to pass through the provided shredders, eliminating their own paper trail.

shredders and a surprisingly substantial pile of paper, courtesy of attendees