“How high the molten rocks soar, how far above the mushrooming cloud. The thrill is that the mountain blows itself up, even if it must then like the dancer return to earth; even if it does not simply descend—it falls, falls on us. But first it goes up, it flies. Whereas everything pulls, drags down. Down.”

Susan Sontag, The Volcano Lover


The works below are made of enamel glass melted at 800 degrees on copper plate.