My work consists of a series of paths, roads, rivers, trails of breadcrumbs, threads of connection. There are figures who may be guardians or guides or ghosts. There is text that forms promises, queries, confessions, prayers, spells. 

Often when I embark on new projects, I cannot see the thread that connects each piece. It can feel disorganized in the beginning, then suddenly there will be a point where it all clicks together, sometimes triggered by a song, a movie scene, or a passage in something I’m reading. The state of mind that I’m in while working is always a common factor, and lately that has meant a lot of worry and fear about the future. The process of making may be a way to formulate solutions, to think about what one person or maybe two or three can do together to make some slice of existence better. The big picture is too big of a bite to take, but what’s here in front of us can be mended and healed.

In spite of what feels like very heavy themes, there is still joy and play in the process. Materials are delightful, and manipulating them to see how they can be transformed is often an entry point to a new piece. You’ll find chair legs, branches, plaster, and cardboard packaging in my work. I incorporate photographs of places that I’ve been to and love. Maybe that’s the point: that one can find a path between worry and joy.

• Earthquake Picnic: Juried Grad Alumni Show III