|linoleum print, Edition sold out|
I drag my art tools everywhere, and run to my studio as often as possible in order to hold onto things I love because I know everything, everyone, and every moment is fleeting. Above all else, I fear that I have a bad memory! I can't even remember, without notes, what I was doing this day last week, last month or last year. By tracking and documenting the details of a day, I feel more whole. I am marked in a spot and it is proof I exist. It must be different for the collector.
Taking notice of details and highlighting something artistically brings out beauty and preserves an experience.
For the viewer, art can be where you feel welcomed and where you can pause on your own journey.
When my mother was moving out of her home and we had crated, packed, loaded into storage almost everything, she spontaneously gave several of my works (from her collection) to the moving men. The pieces, made in my youth, felt singular and rare to me... connecting me to a timeline. They were posts for me to check in with whenever I visited her. They were also nicely framed and she thought, in her usual generous manner, that the young men could use some good art.
|New Year's Chair with Mother's Hourglass, drawing on paper, 2018|