A voice says, “Call out.”
Then he answered, “What shall I call out?”

“All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. 

The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the LORD blows upon it; Surely the people are grass.

The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.”

Continuing my interest in the art of dying, these giving tins were developed as another contemplation of our mortality, the shortness and frailty of our lives.

The theme and text are taken from Isaiah. The tins consist of obituaries and grass from a cemetery, viewed through a headstone shaped hole. 

Again, my interest is not a teenage morbid fixation on death (well I hope not at least) but rather exploring new expressions of memento mori.