Laura Bombach

I am continuously and constantly anxious about failing. Failing to be a better person, failing to be good, to be bad, to be admired, to be hated, failing to fulfill a role that is set out for me. I consciously try to fill these roles and am left feeling cheated. I do not believe that there is any way to be sincere.
I change my mind. Perhaps I attempt to make my work as sincere as possible to explore my anxiety. I use materials that are lowly. They are bound to fail. They are widely used and strongly associated with the classless. The one common thing that my materials have against them is that they are trying to be better, trying to be something else. A mimicry and a falsity. I feel for my materials. Why are they so stigmatized? Do we want to believe that we can achieve “betterhood,” so we must cast out things that threaten that? I ultimately come to the conclusion that my materials are the most sincere. They defiantly are what they are, a pure attempt at falsity.