In 2015 I became a mother. As I have progressed in this new role, so has my work; I began to notice an instinctive shift in my choices of objects to depict in recent paintings. It dawned on me that the objects are all generally emblematic of fears that have been amplified by motherhood. Since November 8, 2016, those fears are markedly more palpable.
The list reads as a litany: immense, specific fears like global warming and threats to civil rights; personal fears like loss (of relationships, of freedoms, of identity, of location); and general, unnamable fears that are merely experienced and evoked (vulnerability, fragmentation, opposition, dissolution, decapitation). I situate the objects within paintings, re-contextualizing them, so as to live with and confront these fears, and even to tend to them, to address them with care.
Still applicable in 2017:
“An odd thing, souvenir-hunting: now becomes then even while it is still now.
You don’t really believe you’re there, and so you nick the proof, or something you mistake for it.”
-Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
My paintings, drawings, and installations embody the inability to convey the significance of an event or the impact of a place. Therefore I think the actual content of the work resides in the attempt, the trying—often futilely—to communicate meaning. The work draws upon the traditions of landscape painting and natural science illustration, and incorporates the visual language of maps, diagrams, and artifacts, as a way of exploring our connection—many times via objects—to specific places and occurrences. Compelled by the variety of ideas about and human interactions with the land and landscape, I begin to investigate personal and universal significance of place.
I often focus on the idea of object as souvenir. Although the act of choosing a souvenir is usually individual, the adoption of souvenirs (and/or imbuing an object with significance of some sort) is universal across time and cultures. I find that certain objects, such as elements of detritus or those found in nature, are the lowest common denominator since they cost nothing and are easily found. They are also items to which I am personally attracted and which I have been collecting and arranging throughout my life. My drawings and paintings engage both the idea of the souvenir (those objects we take away to commemorate an experience: stones, sea glass, preserved plantlife, etc.) along with the idea of the artifact (those markers we leave behind in order to communicate something, sometimes just a gesture of our passing presence: stone cairns, spray painted directives, grafittied tags, etc.). I find many of the objects and images depicted while running and exploring, whether locally or while traveling. Expanding the notion of the souvenir to snippets from photographs, even images from existing artwork seen in galleries and museums, I use these elements as a starting point for study and contemplation, and plan compositions around them.
In installations, I’m most interested in the ways in which the paintings, drawings on paper, their silver-leafed cut-outs, painted flora, reflective surfaces, and light can all interact and create a larger conversation between object and atmosphere, between the taken and the left. As humans generally conflate places, experiences, even dreams in our memories, with my installations I’m hoping to create spaces in which such jumbled significance is a felt presence.
These fluid processes of investigation and making strike both a balance and a tension between inward and outward looking selves. I find that the resulting work is essentially diaristic—involving a fracturing of place and time—taking pieces of experience and reassembling them into new, conflated impressions and narratives.