MyronChristian Macauley’s work represents the human as the ancient artist in its purest form, a medium and ambassador of cultural emergency, an active and anarchical anthropologist, a passionate poet obliged to surrender to a vocational lineage whose life bloods are the visionary blue prints of human survival. His tools transform reality into a non option, and like all revolutionaries – Gandhi, Castaneda, Dali, Lumumba, Thoreau, even Jung – the non option into reality. Indeed, the postmodern man assumes the torch of his modern forebears, only now, the shadows which emerge from the caves have faces.

The Sierra Leonean-American globe-trotting photographer and visual artist is as much an emerging master philosopher as he is a visionary artist. Macauley is in the process of becoming his work. His generosity, organic. Like authentic artists before him, he’s heeded a call, sacrificing the knowable, the comfortable, the certain. Entirely self-financed and self-motivated, the path has not always been clear, or easy, but his transcendence has. Waking from tumultuous dreams to spontaneously jump across oceans and continents. Often knowing little more than a whisper of a message inside of himself: “Find shamans,” it said, ascending the summits of Machu Picchu. “Go to the banks of the Ganges,” it said, calling forth and so he did. “It’s almost like I’ve been there by the time I get there,” he explains. “Every moment on this journey is a chance to find yourself. To understand who you are. What you are. Why you are who you are.”

There is no pretense in purity. Macauley´s works have six billion authors and speak the literal languages of Babel and Babylon. Because he is in the process of becoming, the notes offered amidst his art serve not just as a tool for others, but as a sort of compassionate reminder to his own self- an organic and instinctive responsibility to leave breadcrumbs along the pathway, not only for the unavoidable journey home, but also as a means of our future´s survival.