KINGMAN, A.Z.

You give us a crappy old donation funded four dollar museum and we'll give you a universe. We take any experience, any bland rocky facade, a truck stop in the middle of apathy, an unbuilt dream or aged town, a person place or thing that has been and we turn it on it's turned head. We thoroughly devalue the richest of treasures and hold the lonely forgotten on a pedestal. We ride this long trip down nowhere and turn roadkill into history. Legend. We think, we sketch,we paint, then we create. Worlds unseen. Honesty rarely scene. We fight, we suffer, we live lives not our own and taste droplets of others' gushing reality. We take a piece of paper, flimsy in the wind, and turn it into a long distance flying bullet in a few folds. We risk the burden of those with no voice so we may give them our gift of time, empathy and sight. We show what is thought, we present what can be. It's a harder job than anyone can imagine and we do it because it chose us. We question it, we hate it, some of us are lucky enough to embrace it. What else is there? We are artists and that is why we exist.