thismia americana

Buried Alive is an exploration in extreme claustrophobic moments through spatial enclosure or "open" confinement/isolation. Here, claustrophobia is largely a side effect of realizing that a simple but impenetrable medium (transparent or opaque) stands between confinement and freedom resulting in a loop of anxiety and panic. The proximity to freedom is constrained in a manner that is equally psychological and spatial. There's an intense, pressure-inducing or nerve-wracking irony and power in how a simple medium, whether it's the ground, the wall, or a pane of glass, can force two adjacent spaces, interior and exterior, to be so close yet so far away.


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.





Whatever a man does in reality he himself becomes...
Art becoming life means that you become the art work or the art consumes you.
Whoever has learned to do nothing will have everything done for him.