I carry on a conversation with my work in the studio. It is private, between me and my materials, and would likely not be understood by an outsider. Ultimately, it is my hope that this conversation will result in answers to the secrets that are hidden in the potential of my materials. I think this is true for anyone who engages in the creation of a handmade object...the secrets are really revealed only to the maker.
These objects emerge from different repetitive processes: winding, wrapping, layering leads to distorting, altering, scarring. Materials are added, building up an object’s patina and history: wire mesh, wood, plaster, paint, clay, wire, burlap, leather. It is the combination of materials and actions which make an object that is as rich in its quirk-iness and uniqueness as is found in nature.
Some pieces or elements are made over and over again, all the same but also different. The process of repetition has a calming effect, giving me the patience to create prototypes of objects, which I refer to as three-dimensional sketches. These sketches are a means to try out ideas and see where they lead. Trying to make something out of nothing is a mystery that I’m very interested in.
Beauty is subjective, and perfection in nature is frequently surprising. My work isn’t beautiful in a traditional sense. It has its own unique beauty, which may seem dark, but it isn’t without humor.
My connection to nature, the earth, the beauty and grimness of the world are some of the topics of my studio conversations. In nature, there is no sentimentality about life and death; life is temporal and fragile. My work exists in the same place, in that I attempt to create objects that are both vulnerable and powerful.