The image of the cutaway frame house I use in a number of my paintings developed from my experience rebuilding a small 19th century farmhouse. I began to see the cutaway house as a stage for quotidian narratives, exposing the internal structure of such humble buildings, both funny and poignant, a fragile stand in for the mundane. And I began to present the structure in the warped, decayed, termite-ridden state that I found it in, and objects in the dented, bent worn state they eventually assume, partly because it gave me the opportunity to explore rhythms I’ve always found interesting, and partly because it felt like an honest portrayal of the world as an entropic place. Sometimes I stray out to find a ghost ship or a lone chimney, but the sense of entropy remains the same.