In Tear, a seemingly typical canvas is splitting apart, exposing its bloody living flesh. It is an example of how a dimensional canvas can, with little or no painting and the use of its sculptural qualities, tell a story.  Is the canvas and the art that it holds alive? Is it part of the artist, like an extension of his body? Has it been torn or is it splitting? Why is it healing on the top? Is art, as we have traditionally known, tearing apart? Or conversely is Tear a symbol of the irritation of the blank canvas and lack of technical execution that contemporary art has made commonplace in the artworld today?  I’ll leave it up to you.