Meet Eric Standley
Canvas Rebel, March 11, 2025
If you get close enough to a small patch of moss in a forest, you can hear how it absorbs sound, tends to be cooler than the air above, and smells like decaying leaves. If you look even closer, you might notice the subtle movement of shadows that come from high above where tree leaves move to allow light through the forest’s canopy. In the distance and in my memory, I can hear children playing in the neighborhood through the woods behind the house I grew up in.
Everything is a subspace of something else. Our physical bodies are subspaces of our consciousness. Memories are subspaces of the future. Fear, desire, and purpose are subspaces of faith. These are not simply smaller spaces that fit inside larger ones. They are continuous positions of an irreducible whole that is in a constant state of becoming.
The structural vulnerability of paper is analogous with the fragility of the body, memories, and faith. Paper breaths light through its fibers, absorbing, transmitting and reflecting color in relation to its surroundings. The projection of a two-dimensional surface into three-dimensional space by layering laser cut paper is related to our ability as living beings to navigate space and occupy the dimension of time. The objects I create start from lived experiences that revolve around paradoxes. I use these concepts to guide my decisions about color, pattern, density and form to create novel compositions that do not fit into recognizable icons or symbols. They are cognitive fractals that are irreducibly linked to my subjective sensibility and my consciousness. The intentionally formed immersive spaces are made to be occupied with the heart.
