STUDIO CATALOG

Text by Collyn Hinchey

Twelve works from 2008 to 2025, tracing coordinates within the artist’s ecosystem: disciple of the past, inhabitant of the present, sentient of the future. What do these reveal as gestures of lived experience? What do they offer as prophecy—in their grace, in their radical nature?

The artworks here speak in many perspectives to the way we see ourselves and how we witness others. A piece like the black self-portrait from Face Value (2015) asks a foundational question: what presentations of self does the world keep consuming? How do we negotiate coherence within a society of extraction and erasure? The dripping blue acrylic piece “You can’t drink these waters” (2012-2014) contemplates the journey of becoming more transparent in yourself. Observation without judgment—how it changes you, what it allows you to release.

Growing up, growing into yourself. Seeing something correctly, acting accordingly. Listening. Making things. Locating yourself in connection with those around you. Playing basketball with your friends. It develops its own gravity. It takes shape in relationship. What molts into a new self, and what stays the same? With identity, first it’s: where can you take it. But then, it’s: where does it want to go? 

Adrian once told me the funniest joke about TRASH—really just a thought he had about the project: some day, a hundred years from now when none of us are here, someone will find a pink polka dot trash bag in a landfill and think, what the hell is this? As identity does, so do many works in his catalog accumulate meaning as they evolve. Becoming archaeology, becoming memory. They do not assert—just are—as they spiral and deepen over time with a spirit of curiosity and attunement. These pieces mark a threshold into uncertainty and participation. They unfold alongside you over time.  

If the fifth dimension is a space where perception, possibility, and consciousness collapse into one another, then Adrian’s practice emerges there—not as theory, but as lived application in collaboration with community. Collective action, many hands make light work. Creatives have always been out ahead of us, living in the world they forecast in communion with expanded consciousness and untethered to linear time. As if talking to God. But here where we find ourselves, at the crest of the collapse of our shared human reality, who do we trust as our artists on fire watch? Who committed? Who’s in the tribe?