I am currently, and have long been, confused and flustered by an exact definition for art. A myriad of acceptable answers exist for what art is, and yet it never gets any easier for me to say I am an artist. Four years of full-time education, discussion and immersion, as well as employment on the inside of varying art institutions has put me in a position to gain insight, but has not satisfied my lust for knowledge and understanding. I have concurrently been shown the old and the new, the public and the exclusive, and the highs as well as the lows. In my research, I have found inspiration from sardonic Anti-Art and Dadaist greats like Marcel Duchamp and Robert Rauschenburg. Yet, as I come to close my career at A.S.U. as an undergraduate and prepare to jump head first into the “art world”, my personal expectations are scattered and my mind awash with ideas. If I am an artist, and everything I do has intention, is it my job? Does that mean I am always on the clock? Am I complicit with what I am critiquing, making art about art from the inside of the art community? Confusion and correlation are two themes of this series of photos, where art history references and inside jokes converge with my own opinions, those of my heroes, and my disdain for the state of the profit-driven world. The purpose and value of art are variables that morph as humanity evolves, and in a time of fractured political and social life, the fluidity of what art can be is actually a calming force in my life. My anxieties about the future, my future as an artist, and the future of humanity ebb and flow with each work I create and each show I observe, creating a winding path of ideas that has no end in sight. It’s probably better not to know where I am going though, rushing things takes away most of the fun anyways. - Ethan Roads 2017