Loose Translation
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Each sculpture in this series depicts a relationship through the language of light and translucent material.
Light is elusive. You can neither hold it nor stare directly at it for too long. It can reveal and it can obscure. It can wash a room with warmth or sterilize it.
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In place of an artist statement, there is a poem.
There are some relationships too complex to sum up in literal language. To honor its’ complexities, I turn to poetry.
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There is no relationship not worth investigating.
No impact is insignificant. No interaction is benign. Through the lens of this project, every person, every thing is meaningful. Between the embodiment of a severed family tie to a love letter to my hair, nothing is out of bounds.
Vestigial Limb
Paper, lamp stand, lamp shade
Vestigial Limb,
our blood pumps to the same rhythm but different tunes.
We are linked;
Your upturned lips, my chest and thighs, the gap left by your flexed knee and the lump in my shin.
Your bite so perfectly fits around my bone.
I sever your branch but only after you pierced mine.
Womb
Tissue paper, wooden reed, horse hair, gloss medium.
Womb,
I will never get to meet you in your untamed wilderness.
All we had in common was our wilderness.
John Denver would have written something for yours.
My Mess
Tissue paper, ink, cheese cloth, horse hair, graphite, gloss medium
My Sweet Mess,
you came soiled.
Unique in your nasty taste and foul smell,
I will never let you splay the way you were made to.
My Mess, you were never meant to get this far.
My Woolen Women
Tissue paper, horse hair, pink tulle, collage.
My Woolen Women,
I hate to have been robbed of you in the worship of money and the shackles of boots and spurs.
You are eclectic and divine, temperamental and unmoving, so challenging and so rewarding.
You look at me and tell me I seem familiar because I am.
Tatters
Linen, doilies, lace, thread, glue, ballet tights, baby sock, rocks.
In our abbess of sleep cocktails and howling into the one other’s neck,
I’ve stayed loyal to you.
You sting my nose. You seep fruit with each whine. You never tell me I’m good.
I’ll keep loving our scraps long after I’ve put the dog down.