I work improvisationally with materials such as found clothing and linens, sentimental objects, raw fibers, and fabric yardage to create skins for imagined landscapes and abject bodies, packaging loose material into bound structures, and giving homes to the discarded essence of unknown individuals. Clinging to these found remnants are the subtle residues of mysterious histories: narratives that fall by the wayside, only to be picked up and re-appropriated.
These remnants comprise the forms I make, but also disappear inside hidden spaces where I give them shelter from the viewer’s gaze. The onlooker is searching and powerful, having the ability to invent story from image, simplifying reality into digestible visual systems. The objects I make elude this ability through visual chaos. Mammalian instincts to nourish, shelter, and contain are contrasted with uncontainable parasitic activity. The protecting structures are like masses of tissue, tautly stretched external barriers, and inwardly compressed interstitial layers. Often, they grow in or around recognizable objects, connecting the viewer to vague memories of specific domestic or temporal spaces.