There's something eternal about Coney Island. It's got a skyline that is like no other -- beautiful -- but in an unapologetic and utterly real way. Old, and vibrant. For me, it's infused with the sense memories I had as a peripatetic kid, wandering between the three offices of my mother's husband (the man who raised me since I was seven) on the Island. Brooklyn was tough then, a true melting pot, and a little scary. And I'd be looking up at the sky. Now, as a mature artist, I continue to study clouds, light, the palette of shifts of Time. And I employ that here.

In 'Jump Eternal' I distill, into a single, iconic image, the unique mix of nostalgia and creative vibrancy, that for me epitomizes Brooklyn. Sand tones (and other warm, coastal blues) infuse this vast skyscraper, because I want to evoke Brooklyn's geography for visitors in a sensory way -- to remind them, as they sleep here, that Brooklyn is indeed an Island with long stretches of beaches. Lampposts and urban architectural elements make themselves felt at the margins, but in strong silhouette, evoking the many local neighborhoods and all the nationalities (and unavoidable realities) they hold. And of course, there's the Parachute Jump, whose outline is so unmistakable that it's been called the Eiffel Tower of Brooklyn. 

I am also highly influenced by the book "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," and, conceptually speaking, in some sort of abstract logic, for me that high, iron tower 'Jump' it's like the (Iron) Tree that Grows in Brooklyn. I conflated the trials and tribulations of its heroine(s) into its shape: an open petal; twelve 'branches'; a tall-unbowed trunk. No matter what the Brooklynites in that book go through, they end up thriving. They look at their past and have perspective for the future. They know where they've come from, and it helps them face where they're going.