This is an infrastructure drawing.

This drawing is directly inspired by the tangled aerial cables outside my Long Beach home. Looking up from my front stoop, they appear as an astonishingly chaotic filigree, a jumble of loops, knots, and overlaps, poised on the brink of collapse.

The base of this drawing drags along the floor. Piled atop is a collection of knotted cables. These tangible forms underscore the raw, unrefined nature of the overhead chaos, offering a grounded counterpoint while amplifying its precariousness.

While it deviates from conventional notions of idealized beauty, this imagery holds an undeniable allure for me. For years, I have walked under these lines, envisioning the challenge and fun of drawing this knotted mess. (I thank Nomad for the perfect excuse to finally do so.)

I'm also captivated by the messy complexities of function. This cable system, largely built over the past 70-80 years, requires constant, often pre-dawn, maintenance. I've witnessed linemen, illuminated in their buckets, adjusting connectors while their team hoists cable up to them from piles laid out across my driveway. This operation frequently results in an eerie neighborhood blackout.

Standing on my stoop in inky darkness, I viscerally feel a sense of everything receding: no light, no sound, no internet, no functions. This infrastructure is simultaneously baffling in its power and infinitely fragile.