Delivery vans, repair trucks, tractor-trailers, along with their various cousins form the bloodstream of our way of life. We see them all the time, but never look at these boxy, nondescript structures. If only one could focus one's mind on just their backs, the gentle beauty of bas-relief forms would appear. Look at the hinges, the rivets, the locks, the quilted walls of fifty-three foot refrigerated trailers; look how these interact and interfere with the functions of a mobile billboard. I've tried to strip away all distractions so the viewer may contemplate even a humble container with as much care as an ancient piece of pottery, and perhaps learn as much about our civilization from it.

They tell me a lot, these little flat icons: how little we make of what we consume (and discard); the limited prospects of all but a select few (“experienced drivers make 42 cents a mile”); the obsessive branding ... stop! I did not set out to editorialize – I collect these objective fragments so that the viewer (perhaps a future archaeologist) may have a certain look at how we live(d).