ABOUT MY WORK
There’s this moment at the beginning of the Breakfast Club where Brian (the brain) is getting dropped off. His mom barks at him to go inside and use the time in detention to his advantage and he’s like, mom, we're not supposed to study; we just have to sit there and do nothing. And she’s like, well mister you figure out a way to study. That’s what my art practice kind of feels like. My time must be generative, even if I don’t understand what I’m making, or why.
My work is the result of a tangent I follow with a material that beguiles me, whether that be the humble pen and paper, or something much more tactile like rope or wool. Stitching or knotting, weaving, seeing what makes what and how. And every once in a while something magical happens.
Lots of my textile work gets made and taken apart, sometimes multiple times. Because if it’s not quite right, it must die. And also I think I unravel my work because if it’s not working, it’s usable material for something that may, or I could use it to like, lash a desk to the roof of my car. I procured it somehow and that took effort, so I may as well squeeze as much use out of it as possible.
Environmentalist? Sure. Hoarder? A touch. Perfectionist? I really don’t think so. That description feels wrong because I’m quite messy and reject the idea of to-do lists. BUT I am always trying to make a better thing than the thing I made before. Once I’ve made an artwork and I’m satisfied with it, while I can appreciate it after I deem it complete, I’m already thinking about something new that’s just a little closer to whatever it is I’m trying to get at.
My drawing process can be maddening, but that’s also what I love about it. I set up a problem for myself and then spend countless hours trying to solve it. The line, the form, the composition, it goes wherever it wants, my role is to tame its journey.
I like making abstract work because it allows the viewer to create their own meaning. It's that simple Rorschach-style reaction that I want the work to allow for. Comments like, I see a camel, or are those proteins. Or nothing, simply offering the viewer the chance to look without expectation. These sorts of things.
November, 2022