I've heard my father tell the same jokes for decades, which leaves me to wonder: if there ever was a time they were actually funny.  Has the subsequent retelling of this dad-joke material shed any new light on meaning?  Are the jokes excusable because they are so firmly embedded in a cultural past?  Is the fact that he tells the jokes over and over actually the punchline?  This exhibition SLO POKE is about a situation like I've just described.  Do the motifs that interest me in the past, that I employ to slow down my present, carry any weight?  The eye moves over them in a familiar way - sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a labored chuckle.

The past has a golden patina.  Something about it is a little slower, and perhaps more significant.