About

I turn fragments of scavenged objects into densely layered sculptures that respond to transformation and growth, as well as competing desires for connection and protection.

My work emerges from a soup of materials and objects that make up the background texture of ordinary domestic American lives. I sift through curbside "free" piles, thrift stores, and bags of random stuff from friends to find once-sentimental things that relate to childhood play and comfort; tradition and celebration; heirlooms and legacy. Mass-produced holiday ornaments, outdated china sets, tins full of buttons, mothballed afghans, artificial flower arrangements, out-grown stuffed animals, and hand-knit sweaters become my raw materials.

I transform combinations of these orphaned objects into maximalist sculptures that teem with mystery and life. Synthetic and organic, antique and mass-produced, shiny and dull, precious and disposable, plush and jagged surfaces converge into sculptures that are inspired by unnoticed ecosystems, burrows, nests, microbes, and spectral entities and apparitions. Sometimes I incorporate aggregates and clusters of small functional things that promise to spice-up everyday life, like frilled toothpicks, colorful sponges, and paint store swatch cards. Larger sculptures rely on household structures like chair bases, plant stands, and lamp fixtures as armatures and scaffolding.

As I build the forms, I create malleability within them so that I may shift them and change them continuously throughout. This creates density and drives new growth and “decay” patterns within the work as I respond to the changes in positioning by adding, subtracting and intuitively reshaping the work into fluid, painterly configurations. Often the sculpture is restrained or overgrown and entangled in itself. Some spill forth saccharin viscera, even as they sprout shoots of new growth. In this world, it’s a thin line between a dream and a nightmare, and an embrace and a trap.