originally, Echoes was a statement for a 2016 exhibition, an abridged version of which follows:
An echo is defined as the persistence of a sound after its source has stopped. This is not incorrect, but it doesn't seem as correct as it could be.
An echo is a fascinating sound because each reverberation is a unique collection of vibrations, defined by but still individual from what preceeded it. Their presence is finite but inconsistent, with a future that guarantees only an ending.
Now, I find the sentiment of the concept to be more accurate as a featured archive; work that is still meaningful to me, yet a degree is certainly sentimental and what remains of the feeling is not nearly as clear to me as what it once was.