I’ve been doing the work that hurts. Cutting my stomach open and looking at my guts, my heart. Who are you? I whisper to myself. It’s becoming clearer and fuzzier at the same time. The more I cut myself open the more I find the rotten parts, meticulously cutting them from the healthy tissue. Where […]
I keep all of the messages in a folder in my email, and save the screenshots on my phone. Why? In case I need them in the future. So I have a record. Lettering them forced me to read them as a series. Foreign and familiar patterns reminding me of who I am, and who […]
Play is such an important part of my art practice, and something I’ve lost touch with over the last few years in riding the wave of momentum and administrative work. Sometimes an exciting realization can come out of laying on the floor, doing material research, or putting something on your head. Don’t take yourself so […]
Returning to my roots, the heartbreak journals. They’ve been in balls and bundles sitting on a shelf, and I’ve been asking myself if I should just throw them out (but never actually doing it). It seems like I’m not done working with these, doesn’t it? Exactly the same reason I started shredding them to start […]
You can’t control how events will change you, just that events will change you. I’ve been making work about grief, trauma and closure, but really I’ve been making work about change. Changes shock us, they rattle us. Loss is change. We don’t always know how to deal with these changes. I’ve changed through doing my […]
I’m sorry I didn’t check in enough when it happened. I was still learning to support people. How do you record the weight a person has on a life, and the weight they have after they’re gone? How do you learn who someone is by what they left behind? In memory.
It all began with a journal. Or two journals, to be more exact. It all starts with minimalism. I love the idea of minimalism and letting go of the things you don’t use, but sometimes it doesn’t jive with making things. My sad journals. These journals hurt. They feel like a dull hollowness. They suck […]
