On Building a World

I created Made in Aprile as a way to keep track of what I notice.

At first, it didn’t feel like world-building. It felt more like collecting. Holding onto moments before they disappeared. Light at a certain hour. A field in transition. An object that felt charged with memory. I wasn’t trying to make statements or tell stories. I was responding to something quieter: the urge to keep evidence that something passed through me.

Over time, a world began to form.

Not a fictional one, exactly. More like an internal landscape made visible. A place built from fragments, repetition, and attention. Small works. Studies. Things that feel unfinished on purpose. I’ve realized that scale matters to me. Not because small things are precious, but because they require closeness. They ask you to slow down.

This world doesn’t explain itself. Meaning here is implied, not declared. Symbols repeat, but they’re not fixed. Fields, flowers, light, dawn, stillness. These are not metaphors I’m trying to decode. They’re elements I return to because they continue to hold something unresolved. I’m more interested in what lingers than what concludes.

Process is just as important as outcome. Sometimes more so. Hesitation, revision, and uncertainty are part of the work. If something feels too polished, too resolved, it usually feels finished in the wrong way. I’m not interested in spectacle.

If there’s a character moving through this world, it’s an observer. Someone who notices without needing to explain. Someone who collects moments instead of events. I don’t think of the work as autobiographical, but it is personal in the sense that it reflects how I move through the world, what I return to, what I choose to hold onto.

This space, whether it’s the site, the app, or the work itself—is an archive. Not a portfolio in the traditional sense, and not a platform meant to perform. It’s a place to gather fragments, to layer symbols over time, to let things exist without demanding clarity.

You’re not meant to understand everything here.

You’re meant to witness it.

Made in Aprile is not about creating answers. It’s about recording attention.

Visions of Texas, 2025