I am a collector–a collector of stories, debris, and found objects carrying their narratives.
The material world prompts uncanny empathies. Dirt sourced from home, wax that emanates the smell of a place not here, cast iron–an element of our blood poured, solidified, oxidized, pine needles from the shed roof, burlap drenched and dyed with indigo; a discarded deer bone: these materials cradle narratives that drift like ghosts. They are the residue of an action and point to an elsewhere and an elsewhen buried in time.
I frequently wonder about the unknown experiences that lie within the lost origins of the material world. Growing up, I would often stumble upon reprieve in the forest–not pristine, not idealized, not groomed; instead a site of debris, of collisions between mechanized industry and wilderness, of both collaborative place-making and destruction. I navigate this interface in my artwork through material processes that allow the tender relationship between my body and material to become evident.
In the process of re-collecting, I create assemblages, performances, and installations that bare a past that we can no longer fully reach. I honor time past and those materials so that they will be seen; so that they can take up space; so they will not be forgotten.