Exhibit: August 26 – October 3
Reception: September 12, 2026 5:00 – 7:00 PM
A mixed media exhibit from traditional block print carvings, monotype, collages, illustration, and digital graphic design.
I wake up like most days coming down the stairs being greeted by my son on the couch watching some toons while he eats breakfast. Soon we are off, a trip into the woods to the lake. We are greeted by bird sounds and a ruffling of branches with the wind as we make our way down to the lake. It’s peaceful and serene, the water glassy, until my son splashes his rocks causing ripples throughout the water. Fractured Realities.
Not so far away some miles north, it’s early in the morning. A man consumed by anger and hate, was given a badge, a gun, and a mask to conceal his face. Suddenly he is surging with a hateful power. A father is driving with his child, a daughter, still in her pajamas. They came up to a masked man, who had been eagerly anticipating this moment. Shots fired, a family broken, a little girl watched her father die, still driving the car. Fractured Realities.
Tall grass ruffles and bends as cranes wade throughe wetlands. Greed and a corruption threaten its entire existence. Only a few of these cranes remain, but our government overturned environmental protections and allowed toxic dumping into these sacred waters. Fractured Realities.
As I rock my child to sleep for a blissful nap, my phone buzzes. Another bombing, an image of rubble and a bloody backpack, It was school. Children not so much older than mine lie dead. What’s a few casualties when this war is holy? I could barely even process all that happened when another headline went off. An inside scoop, a plea for help from the detainment center in my home state. Children separated from their mothers, left screaming for hours, no food or medical treatment being provided, teen girls being raped, and on it goes. As I think how could our country be involved in something so horrific. I am reminded that Anne Frank died of typhus in a camp that sounds just like the one in Texas. Fractured Realities
My child will wake up and get to see the birds chirping, run through the trees, and play carefree. My child can experience life without fear, be filled with laughter and curiosity. I live with gratitude and guilt for that. I have seen what this world can do to the most innocent.
I am fractured by the love and joy of family and fatherhood. Fractured by the pain and knowing of all the suffering happening. Fractured by the peace and sanctuary of nature. Fractured by the evil that our government is trying to wield.
My reality is fractured.
Bryan Clocker
