This exhibition brings together two bodies of work rooted in lived experience, memory, and the cultures that shape us. Across painting and hand-carved wood, Marcella Colavecchio and Daniel Wood Adams explore the emotional residue of ambition, music, labor, and identity. Both artists work from the inside out, not as observers, but as participants. What emerges is a shared language of noise and nostalgia, of pressure and persistence, where personal history becomes material, and material becomes story.

Adams’ work is built from the physical remnants of a life in music: dive bars, late load-outs, cheap beer, long drives, and the nights that blur together but never quite leave. Each piece begins as a block of wood, carved, painted, and inked by hand. Instead of printing from the block, he presents the block itself. The cuts, textures, missteps, and tool marks remain visible, an honest record of process and time. His work holds the grit and volume of rehearsal spaces and touring life, where culture is built through repetition, exhaustion, and devotion.

Colavecchio’s High Voltage series approaches memory from a parallel but distinct angle. Drawing from her experience as a first-generation Italian American, her paintings grapple with the tension between the promise of the American Dream and the weight of sacrifice required to pursue it. Chaotic stacks of amplifiers, books, and records become emotional architectures, symbols of inheritance, ambition, and the pressure to hold everything together. Inspired by 1970s photographs of her parents and a deeply personal family history, her work is charged with color, light, and movement, hovering between nostalgia and reckoning.

Together, these works create a dialogue about the cultures we come from and the ones we build for ourselves. Sorry, Mom, It’s Not A Phase is about the noise we carry, the marks we leave behind, and the ways memory, music, and labor shape who we become. It is a shared portrait of devotion: to craft, to history, and to the lives we’ve lived loud enough to still hear echoing.