LAX Airport and its surrounding labyrinth of roadways define both the entrance and exit to the city. The only obstruction to the assaulting blue of the Los Angles sky is the airplanes passing over head. On my daily drives through the city I would see the plane’s shadows passing over me. With a hand made wheel composed of red, green, and blue gels spinning in front of my lens, in a fraction of a second I change the passing shadow from above into a psychedelic presence on the landscape below. The photographs become a flattened visual conversation between the Los Angeles ground and air.
