new work

i've been steadily producing work this past year, but i haven't been sharing too much about it. 

there have been little snippets and sneak peeks pop up on instagram (which is the best place to find out about what's been happening lately). 

i had this idea that i would accumulate a multi-layered, multi-media collection of work, as a way of testing myself, to see if i was capable of the intensive work that accompanies grad school, and also to see if i could produce enough for a solo-show in a gallery and the short answer is yes to both. 

in this past year i've made over 12 focused paintings, and combined with my quilts and embroidery series, i feel like I would have more than enough work to fill a small gallery. 

but the most important thing was that i didn't feel a crushing pressure while creating, as there wasn't a weighty deadline or a demanding list of rules that the work needed to fit within. (these things are important for process-based art). 

i added a new tab to the website, called simply- new work. there's one gallery so far and it showcases 5 of the new 'surface filling' paintings. please check it out and let me know what you think. 

i also am doing something that i hesitated to do, which is, selling my work. after you've spent so much time with your pieces, they feel like children to you. and if i sell them all, how will i fill a small gallery? but the simple answer (and why i was inspired to do it) is that to sell some of laborious artwork i've fabricated would enable me more funds to make even more art. and i need new canvases in order to keep producing and creating and growing and evolving. 

thanks, as always, for your support and appreciation of the work i make. 


wrote a poem about the passage of time.

my browser quit and the work dissolved into the ether.

ain't that poetic.


process-based art in a nutshell. 

you have to be okay with chopping it up.

being impulsive and knowing when to let the work be gone,

disappear into the mystical computer space where lost files roam free.

i'll try again another day.

a series of stitchings

surface filling stitches have always been enchanting to me.

they feel like a journey.

wandering threads traveling across the linen.

they feel like a freeform squiggle, where there is no wrong move.

the entire purpose is to make a mark. and so you make one. and then you make another. and they don't have to lead into anything, they don't even have to connect. they don't have to be the same color, they don't have to be anything at all. they don't need to be fancy, like detached chain stitch, or delicate french knots. they can be. but they can also be haphazard and strewn about. 

they feel like meditations.

they feel like a softly spoken whisper. 

they feel like a landscape, but peered at from a distance that you can't quite make out where things align, like your perspective is skewed. and again, there's no wrong answer. maybe it's an aerial photograph being emulated. or an underwater coral reef. but maybe it's just nothing at all. just marks on fabric. and that is perfect too.