The viewer is with me in all parts of the process. In thinking toward the physical engagement possible with each piece, my editing and mark-making decisions are inspired by a deep sense of empathy and connection to the core of human existence. When I am deep in it, it is transcendent for me; it is my spiritual practice. I am always considering the future humans who are to interact with this work, and tapping into emotions and states of being I do not yet know. That is why there is this back and forth of planning and spontaneity throughout my process, allowing each preceding layer to inform the next.
Then, as the piece is encountered in a gallery or hanging in a home, there may be a moment when one comes across one of these instances in the work, of layers being interwoven rather than stacked. There is a pause, and they are drawn into a physical object that reveals the hand and mind of another in all transparency.
In a way then - even more than memories - I am exploring the shared human memory of being alive, and bringing awareness to the future memories we are forming now. Is that “the human condition”? I’ve always avoided that overused artist statement term when speaking about my work, or at least wanted to truly understand it through my own way of working. Maybe I have arrived at that.
Maybe all art essentially is about just that; constantly redefining, challenging, and questioning the human condition.
I believe that everyone is able to find connection in the observation and expression of creative practices. The twist is, one never merely arrives at this experience of art, as if it is a destination they knew they were headed toward. There may be openings on the calendar and pieces to finish, but the expansion of the spirit comes amidst this pause,
The Great Pause.
It is at this pause, like the moment between an exhale and an inhale, where we are given permission to exist, to be alive, and to individually understand what that is.
That is where I meet the viewer, and it is from where the process flows. When we require that art-people-life-experiences bring and hold for us nothing more than space, we arrive at an equitable place where all are able explore and listen.
Utopian? Maybe. But I am not insisting that the pause last forever. That’s the thing about memories - they are fleeting, a bit hazy, coming and going without warning. I am intrigued by the power of these images, that exist solely in our mind, to shape our entire reality. My work (really, my life, which is reflected in the things I make) seeks to encourage positive experiences that last forever in your memory. The kind that can be called up in times of fear, anger, sadness, and disgust to bring joy at the realization of existence.