My time in the studio is a search for salvation. Unlike the Catholic heaven for which I was once taught to strive through redemption, my current efforts seek the respite within. My marks and collages are tactile attempts to scribble over, scratch into, and peel away the screens, advertisements, and corresponding stories I tell myself about overlapping and fractured versions of my identity and place in the world.
My art seeks, questions, and engages rather than calls out, judges, or damns. It is a mindfulness practice, a sacrament of sorts, observing the ways I take in and respond to the noise of living. Instead of reveling in the pleasant and running away from the ugly, my work meditates on all parts of myself. My art is a journal, an exploration of my innermost experiences, secrets and interpretations of life, scratched and layered onto paper. It honors the contradictions inherent in the human condition, serving as a reminder that raw beauty lies in the imperfections, and the sacred resides in the messy process of creation.
"Illustrated Meditations" are studies of the nature of the mind. How the mind takes in, processes, and transforms the data flood. The pencil on paper is my rejection of the gloss. Mistakes are encouraged and seen as a necessary part of both the process and product. The work is crude, rudimentary, and filled with scribbles, erasures, smudges, wrinkles, and tears. The process is immediate and most of all, a lesson in impermanence. Thoughts are just thoughts. They come and go. And even gloss fades.
"Reconfigured" uses readymade images for collage. I chose the ad of a given ideal and met the feelings of need and greed it stirred up. I explored my inner desires for better- bigger- faster and more, more, more. Instead of consuming the objects in the magazine clippings, I altered the image itself. I maintained the beauty that piqued my initial attraction while still claiming it as my own through transformation. I reconfigured the aspirational message “Be this” to “I am this-and.”
My contemplations on the gloss of advertising evolved into a simple process: cut and slide. My subtle visual shifts are David's pebble-sized response to the Goliath of Madison Avenue. The atomized fragments reached my subconscious self to open a conversation. What are the effects of the barrage of images convincing me of who and how I should be, and what I need to do and spend to change? Instead of being a passive recipient, I was actively aware of the image’s intentions for me, and responded mindfully. In "Photochop," small changes yield big alchemy.