Statement for Recent Work and Big Work

My work is about the desire to live fully in the face of adversity, whether it is war, untimely illness or death. At times this struggle can be so staggering as to utterly immobilize one. What I hope to express in my work is an observation of sorrow so deep that it becomes transformative. The work becomes a repository of my experiences.

I begin my work by trolling for images. Using a digital camera, I take pictures of street memorials and graffiti: skulls and R.I.P. graffiti, flowers, candles – we’ve all seen these tributes. I also work with the x-ray skeletal images of my daughter. Taking the images and cropping them, I use Photoshop to create patterns that I print on printmaking or Nepalese Lokta papers with an inkjet printer. In sections, the printed patterns are mounted on panel creating a larger secondary pattern.

Finally, I work the surfaces with encaustic – pigmented beeswax and resin. Applying color to these pieces allows me to play; I love color and I understand it intuitively. I obsessively make dots using a heated encaustic pen. The encaustic medium’s unpredictability – the way it runs, melts, and drips in ways that are hard to control – produces a tension between my attempts at order through the use of pattern and inevitable disorder.


Statement for Shadowboxes

In the Fall of 2007 I decided to revisit a series of shadowboxes I began in 2000. Most of these pieces were devoted to faces and hands, yet not exclusively. Except for the piece titled Rabbit Hole, I have continued with this theme. This is what I wrote about shadowboxes in 2003:

As a child I loved the world of my dollhouse.

Loving the beds and the chairs, the dishes and tables,

I made it mine – all mine.

My aunt and uncle were picture framers.

In her retirement, my aunt discovered the interior world of shadowboxes.

With miniature furniture, she made elegant and delightful rooms.

They took me back.

A box, like the dollhouse, becomes a place to dwell.

It can be a place to pay homage or a place to remember.

With a feeling of intimacy and fragility, one is asked to enter.

Working with my children, their friends and classmates,

I introduced them to drawing on Shrinky Dink (shrinkable plastic).

In turn, I became enchanted with its possibilities.

Constructed of foam core, covered in paper and painted with encaustic,

the boxes are designed to house the Shrinky Dinks.

Placed center-stage the shrunken drawings are attached by thread to the box.