I wish I could believe in something. Having grown up in a religious household, I have continually teetered between faith and doubt. Landscapes seen and unseen are my last source of awe; here my doubt is suspended and I can believe in something – for a moment.
I am currently pursuing my Masters of Fine Arts at Virginia Commonwealth University. Although my earlier figurative work searched for meaning in the human experience, my current work explores the landscape of an alternate reality, finding lineage in the Romantic artists of the 19th century who pursued the sublime in grand landscapes. Historically, the sublime has been associated with great things in nature – torrential storms, cavernous depths, frightening heights, and infinitely barren deserts. The sublime experience is born in a sense of amazement and is often linked to fear of something beyond our understanding or control. As opposed to the thrilling mountaintop experience, I look to the amazing intricacy of biology, the hills and valleys of microscopic flora and fauna. I am fascinated by the idea of a whole universe existing alongside and inside us. The abundance of unfamiliar life in my work evokes a cautious curiosity. In further contrast to Romantic art which neatly contained their landscapes, my imagined worlds push beyond the boundaries provided for them invading our tense reality.
Creation myths speak of the gods forming us out of clay. My work reclaims the material of this reality, simultaneously dense and fragile, to shape a different one. Raw clay breathes, stretches, tears, ages, cracks, and holds onto infinite potential for rebirth. My unwieldy, impermanent works are not meant to be possessed; instead they are meant to be experienced with the knowledge that they will not last.