It had something to do with Labyrinths…

A place to get lost ... for a time.

This, at least, was my starting point when I first started sifting through the Frank Moore Archive Project. A little romantic and a little scary. Thinking back on it now makes it seem kind of ironic as a labyrinth is basically a riddle, a spatial conundrum.

The conundrum, for me, has always been about where bodies begin and end. Or put another way, where the OUTSIDE connects with the INSIDE ... when things get reversed (turned inside out) and you suddenly find yourself on the outs when you should have been on the ins. Where things become familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, not unlike:

A mandala
A dark and twisted corridor
A knot in the landscape
That dream house nightmare
A boy's curved back as he turns away
A floor tile
A dinosaur mural with broken windows for eyes
A man jerking off in his apartment (with his apartment)
A pile of rubble
A closed roll gate that is both an invitation and a barrier

Bodies etched on bodies, etched across crumbling facades; buildings crumbling with orgasmic delight. What would it be like to, instead, have broken cities etched onto bodies? Graffiti in reverse.