As an artist my days are filtered through a series of delicate observations. Time presses onward, leaving evidence of its passage, illustrated through the shape of all things. In this practice, shape can be visual or it can be felt like emotion.
In my process, materials collect in domestic space and are repurposed as color and shape on the surface of a canvas or sheet of paper. Whatever is handy- a chartreuse bra hanging on the closet door acts as a stand in for a stroke of yellow paint on the page. Gold earrings on the dresser are shapes of intrigue. The rhythms of collecting, grabbing, and organizing distill into a contained world of shapes and new relationships taking place on the surface of a painting.
Walking through the parking lot I look out for ice and notice the repaired patches of asphalt, all different and randomly placed. In the aisles of the grocery store, the top layer of linoleum is worn away by foot traffic. A new pattern is made as the result of its association with the old linoleum revealed underneath.
People move and change. Evidence of a broken heart is a young man overheard on the train, speaking into one end of a telephone line. Relationships are a method of making order out of simple statements: When did you first stop loving me? When did I first stop loving you?
People are not so different from shapes on canvas. Human relationships are formed in response to the push and pull of one another, just as shapes are formed by the positive and negative spaces that surround them.