My current work grapples with deceptively broad ideas of person, place and thing. Through an interdisciplinary practice that involves painting, ceramics and installation, I interact with and respond to my changing surroundings. As I re-orient my physical body in new spaces to assimilate stimuli, I make often-unexpected connections. The word relationship feels vital to what I’m doing. Utilizing inherent mechanisms of structuring and arranging, I am able to fashion situations and environments that are simultaneously idiosyncratic and slightly systematic (in process). There is an overt thread of nostalgia; a dichotomy of fluidity and stillness echoes the paradox of personal memory. Do these works live in the past or present? Are the pieces singular? Do they need each other? My works flirt with this line of clarity, shifting and evolving with each iteration.
If you pick them up [and you do, always], they will escape you. Pouring through the spaces of your fingers, melting into quicksand.
While the content is intentionally ambiguous, the motivation behind each piece is special. Often the works allude to memories I can’t quite pin down, and objects once loved and then lost. Everything is rooted in an attachment to moments, to the idea of home, or places/belongings reminiscent of it. There is a pervasive feeling of wanting to grasp something familiar yet enigmatic, to hold onto it, touch it, posses it. I remember creating things in the front yard as a kid: a makeshift house out of sticks, a fort, a play area with items lined up around the edges. Items only precious because I imbued them with meaning. In those imagined environments, I could begin to understand the world and my place within it; as an adult, I am trying to do the same.