Narrative and the physicality of words have always been dominant in my work. Whether the visual story or the written one, my use of language auto focuses the viewer and simultaneously blurs the edges of meaning for each person. My words, short statements, and sometimes quotes are combined with painted landscapes and dreamscapes to provide bold declarations. As I once depended on specific experience and the interpersonal relationships between men and women and women and women, I have since carried those threads along twisting them into a newer focus on our relationship to the climate. In the environmental and political climate there is a never ending stream of narratives: scrutinizing the self, assessing the damage, working through a global trauma, the despair of doom scrolling and so on. Yet, I struggle to force these past themes into my current compositions. My aim is to relay the power our surroundings have on us, while simultaneously sharing the intimacy of angst, loss, and our relationships to others.
Like many who have the privilege, I have utilized total immersion in nature as a way to heal after months of living in my Brooklyn apartment during COVID 19. This global pandemic is also compounded with an upheaval of the racist systems our country runs on. Introspection and growth comes with guilt and anxiety, and while my language is often weighty and concise, it has a tinge of humor that I carry with me. It wasn’t until I returned to the simplicity of landscapes and words did I feel at peace with what I was trying to say. As an artist I want to make meaningful and lasting statements of the present, but what I found this summer is that, when I am authentic to the work and myself- it comes easily.