Statement

 

My work grows by lingering. Stopping on a daily commute and standing still. Looking longer.

Traversing the city through digital photographs, I collect images of sloppy traces of human activity around industrial spaces. I find inspiration in parking lots, surrounded by birdsong, pausing outside before slipping into a warehouse building for work. Driving past a construction zone glittering with fluorescent traffic cones.

Much of my work draws on the objects that shape human movement and stories built from repetitive labor. Through handweaving and printmaking, I enact the same repetitive activity to capture what always feels out of reach: the last seconds of the sun setting against the factory wall, wavering shadows fluttering against the pavement, and the transient space between an open storefront and a shuttered one. The smell of asphalt baking in the summer heat. In a train car, everything blurs into color fields broken by gestural graffiti signatures. I think about movement as a language, and the things left behind as calligraphy.

I have learned to see the architectural landscape as a living document of collaborative writing. One that gets redacted, defaced, eroded, erased, and then written over again and again. I consider the visible “scars” of past lives left behind in the landscape as something malleable and flesh-like: of body, of ghosts. Whether from business turnover, property displacement, or urban development, the peripheral details about our built environment are filled with stories and meaning.

Using both material illusion and abstraction, I weave between the melancholy and humour of a world that is constantly disappearing around us, and a world that must be constantly reimagined.