cam decaussin draft 02

Page 1

a mystery appears when walking through a neighborhood at night. perhaps it is the flirtation with voyeurism, windows becoming peepholes into anonymous lives. perhaps the feeling is caused by the ominous glow of the street lamps, the noir light engulfing passages of yards and streets while an encroaching darkness veils the unknown. or it could be the silence that’s in the shadows, allowing the imagination to run awry, making every home a place of wonder and fear. when it is quiet the mind begins to wander




when it is quiet


the work of cam decaussin

there is a mystery that appears when walking through a neighborhood at night. perhaps it is the flirtation with voyeurism, windows becoming peepholes into anonymous lives. maybe the feeling is caused by the ominous glow of the street lamps, the noir light engulfing passages of yards and streets while an encroaching darkness veils the unknown. or it could be the silence that’s in the shadows, allowing the imagination to run awry, making every home a place of wonder and fear. when it is quiet, the mind begins to wander. the stillness of the dark, the removal of distractions, opens all things suppressed during the day. memories that had once been forgotten come drifting back. thoughts and worries overwhelm the mind leaving an array of emotions to take over. each home is a reality often hidden. only in the quiet moments do we feel safe to let these emotions and thoughts escape. we are at our most vulnerable. the yard is a transient place where private life embraces the open, where there is a chance of exposure. a home can be a transistor to the past, the present, and the future—one of dreams, aspirations and dread. a place where moments of hope or regret, loneliness or solitude are visible. —cam decaussin


i’ve never driven forward before oil on aluminum,17” x 22”, 2015



i got one just like it in my living room oil on canvas, 48� x 48�, 2015



a lie is often hidden between two truths oil on canvas, 54” x 97”, 2015



a lie is often hidden between two truths details



all i can come up with are stray sentences oil on panel, 47� x 85�, 2017



all i can come up with are stray sentences left: detail opposite: study



all i can come up with are stray sentences details



all things are possible and nothing is safe oil on panel, 47� x 85�, 2017



all things are possible and nothing is safe above: detail opposite: study



all things are possible and nothing is safe details



because there’s nothing here but two empty spaces oil on panel, 47” x 85”, 2017



because there’s nothing here but two empty spaces above: detail opposite: study




because there’s nothing here but two empty spaces details


or so i’m told but how would you fake it oil on panel, 47” x 85”, 2016



or so i’m told but how would you fake it above: detail opposite: study



or so i’m told but how would you fake it details



you’ve never seen, you’ll never know oil on panel, 48” x 27”, 2017



you’ve never seen, you’ll never know details



what do the children think oil on panel, 27� x 48�, 2017




what do the children think details


what do the children think details



stills, studies, and scenes

they take good care of their cars and yards oil on panel, 12� x 21�, 2016



somewhere between love and madness oil on panel, 12� x 21�, 2016


no one sees it but us oil on panel, 12� x 21�, 2016


untitled oil on panel, 12” x 21”, 2016


untitled oil on panel, 12” x 21”, 2016


there was only her until i found you oil on panel, 12� x 21�, 2017


all of my sins oil on panel, 12” x 21”, 2017


i also dreamed of girls oil on panel, 21� x 12�, 2017


everything feels foreign oil on panel, 12� x 21�, 2017


camdecaussin.com



the stillness of the dark, the removal of distractions, opens all things suppressed during the day. memories that had once been forgotten drifting back. thoughts and worries overwhelm the mind leaving an array of emotions to take over. each home is a reality that is often hidden. only in the quiet moments do we feel safe to let these emotions and thoughts escape we are at our most vulnerable. the yard is a transient place where private life embraces the open, where there is a chance of exposure. a home becomes a transistor.


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