Daniel Liepold is the kind of guy who thinks speaking about himself in the third person is an entertaining way to pass the time. He has spent the past 8 years painting and looking at the number 8 sideways, wondering about möbius strips and how far sideways M.C. Escher cocked his head when he worked on his art. I'm part of an artist collective that isn't organized enough to have a name and isn't motivated enough to have meetings of more than three members at a time, but we still exist nonetheless. The envelope wouldn't be there if it wasn't supposed to be pushed, and I wouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning if it weren't for the belief that there is yet another hard line of perception in the universe that I'll have the chance to blur with my paint brush. It doesn't matter too much if you "get it", I would be perfectly happy if you would just enjoy it, but I take my inspiration from the doors of perception and the squeaky hinges that sing like angels if you ever take the time to listen. There are enough manifestos written on the topic of art, but if I had to subscribe to any two of them it would have to be Wassily Kandinsky's Concerning the Spiritual in Art and Mark Rothko's Plasticity from The Artist's Reality: Philosophies of Art.