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1000 Whispers From Our Future: Post Show Spirit Flower

One of my favorite videos I created in collaboration with @pat.waves for his Audium residency this winter. What an absolute joy to share these beautiful projections with everyone that came to the shows. Enjoy this excerpted version of the piece.

Shot & Edited by me :P
Sound Design by Pat Mesiti-Miller

Experiments with stop motion and teeth and filters and gloves and magic and god

#stopmotion #decay

eroded by time as nature intended

ink transfer on biopolymer 10”h x 8.5”w
made sometime in 2024 i think

eroded by time as nature intended

ink transfer on biopolymer 10”h x 8.5”w
made sometime in 2024 i think

big if true [true]

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

This is an imperfect post. I picked some of Larry’s least favorite photos. The crop ratios are messed up. The videos aren’t pre-edited. Larry knew the first image was my favorite photo I’ve taken of him. It made it onto one of our mail-out postcards and I had it hung up on the cork board behind my computer. He’d comment on it from time to time. So would I. The thing about being a photographer and having someone you love pass is you realize you’re behind the camera more times than you’re in front of it. I can’t find any pictures of Larry and I together, but in every photo i took of him, we were. Telling people he was my boss always felt weirdly formal in a way I knew we didn’t exactly operate. The ShadowLight office is in a room in his house. “I’ll be in at 9:30”, I’d say. “Come at 11”, he’d respond. No!! I’d show up early anyway and he’d still be asleep in his bed. He’d make us breakfast, lunch, and sometimes when I stayed late enough he’d share dinner. He’d take bites of my sandwich if it looked good to him. Larry and ShadowLight have spoiled me rotten with the most wonderful job, community, and friendships i didn’t even think I could ask for. I don’t know how to express the pain of this loss because I’m still processing it, as I’m sure we all are. I’ve seen Larry a few days out of every week for the past 5 years and now he’s gone. I didn’t know who he was before meeting him. I didn’t know anything about shadow theater. Over the years I’ve learned of his literal international reach. There are people all over the world who can point to this man’s kindness, creativity, and spark as a source of inspiration that they live and work by. He was a polyglot. He was still learning to play clarinet at 81. He had books mailed to his house weekly. I’m rambling. A light has gone out and the world is mourning. Larry I love you. I miss you so much and I’ll miss you forever. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for welcoming me into your life and your home. I hope it’s beautiful on the other side. “The fighting has ended, but the story lives on.”

1000 Whispers Q&A recap ✨✨✨✨
Thanks everyone who came out! Was an absolute joy talking with you all :D
Artist talk Q&A pt II with @socklessinside at @audiumsf 01/09/26

Camera: @ysomal
🎵: by pat

Visuals for 1000 Whispers -> Working with @socklessinside on these projections was so fun. Jax is so creative!! ✨✨✨ We filmed with drones and cameras to capture the concrete clipped with resistance and took a trip to a special nature place where I have been reconnecting with the land and spirit over the last year. When jax put together the spirit flower slide (3)🪻and pressed play forreal i gasped - just look at those colors! For me, this is the materialization of spirit into physical form, from the ether into earth, through which all life exists.

These works interact with the sculptures and flow in a cycle through the space.
The sound design tells the story too -> FUCK !CE!

We’ll be q&a talking after tonights showat @audiumsf hope to see u!! ✨🌀✨

Visuals for 1000 Whispers -> Working with @socklessinside on these projections was so fun. Jax is so creative!! ✨✨✨ We filmed with drones and cameras to capture the concrete clipped with resistance and took a trip to a special nature place where I have been reconnecting with the land and spirit over the last year. When jax put together the spirit flower slide (3)🪻and pressed play forreal i gasped - just look at those colors! For me, this is the materialization of spirit into physical form, from the ether into earth, through which all life exists.

These works interact with the sculptures and flow in a cycle through the space.
The sound design tells the story too -> FUCK !CE!

We’ll be q&a talking after tonights showat @audiumsf hope to see u!! ✨🌀✨

Visuals for 1000 Whispers -> Working with @socklessinside on these projections was so fun. Jax is so creative!! ✨✨✨ We filmed with drones and cameras to capture the concrete clipped with resistance and took a trip to a special nature place where I have been reconnecting with the land and spirit over the last year. When jax put together the spirit flower slide (3)🪻and pressed play forreal i gasped - just look at those colors! For me, this is the materialization of spirit into physical form, from the ether into earth, through which all life exists.

These works interact with the sculptures and flow in a cycle through the space.
The sound design tells the story too -> FUCK !CE!

We’ll be q&a talking after tonights showat @audiumsf hope to see u!! ✨🌀✨

Visuals for 1000 Whispers -> Working with @socklessinside on these projections was so fun. Jax is so creative!! ✨✨✨ We filmed with drones and cameras to capture the concrete clipped with resistance and took a trip to a special nature place where I have been reconnecting with the land and spirit over the last year. When jax put together the spirit flower slide (3)🪻and pressed play forreal i gasped - just look at those colors! For me, this is the materialization of spirit into physical form, from the ether into earth, through which all life exists.

These works interact with the sculptures and flow in a cycle through the space.
The sound design tells the story too -> FUCK !CE!

We’ll be q&a talking after tonights showat @audiumsf hope to see u!! ✨🌀✨

TONIGHT: an after-show Artist Q&A with Pat Mesiti-Miller @pat.waves in conversation with X Medianoche @experimentsatmidnight ~ there will be space for questions from the audience as well ~~ join us!

This weekend, 1000 Whispers From Our Future performance continues sounding~~ Live & evolving ~~~( ( ( The show changes every performance, so join us for more whispers and visions if you need another dose of liberation sonified ) ) ) Lobby install: in collaboration with visual artists @socklessinside @ysomal

December 4, 2025 through Janurary 3, 2026
~~~ every Thurs/Fri/Sat (except Dec 25-27)
~ Doors 7:30pm; show 8:00pm ~

audium.org or bio for 🎟️

~~~see you soon~~~~~~~

#bayarea #bayareaevents #sanfrancisco #sfbayarea #bayareaartist #soundart

Just a lil snippet of some of my visual work up at Audium SF created in collaboration with Pat Mesiti-Miller for his spatial sound performance & art installation, 1000 Whispers From Our Future. If you haven’t been it yet, there are six more shows!! Tickets in my bio.