Through my current work, I am posing questions about experience; activating a method of inquiry to analyze what is seen, what is felt, and what is remembered from one’s gaze. Several contrasting visual encounters simultaneously exist in the mind as a sort of merged panorama of compressed time. I’m interested in making this type of internalized surveillance tangible while looking to capture notions of endlessness and timelessness by creating an unfolded scope of deep time, distance, and space. I like to see what takes place when signs and gestures are layered, fragmented, stifled and isolated, and the simultaneous opacity and ambiguity which ensues.
Memories of a dingy laundromat bathroom, a mountain range or a film are juxtaposed against a wooden horse, a bingo card, or a tangle of scribbles. I carry a disdain for boundaries while exploring the outer fringes of serial fabrication and approach perfection as a dead end; I instead look to recreate a sensation. This goes without dismissing a deep respect for craft and skillful execution. While utilizing the processes of screenprinting, I employ vandalized source imagery, altered positives, my screen and squeegee as my anthropomorphic contact with an image. Amongst other things, these images can be drawn from my own photographs, found imagery, and varying ephemeral matter, objects, and shapes. Highlighting the variables of both reproduction and immediacy, I embrace mis-printing, squeegee skips, and streaking color bleeds. Before and after printing, I use a vast array of processes, paint, collage, previous screens, knives, tape, scanners, and other media to fragment the image further. In combination with a penchant for dense layering, a strong physicality of the work emerges and a piece maneuvers between the abstract and concrete. Because of this ever-going and deep surface, there is really no beginning or end to the picture, and one piece moves into the next.
The work insists on reviewing fleeting moments of experience that might have been passed in viewing or were seemingly banal. It is rooted in my need to see everything, and care. The body of work serves as a diaristic tracing of my movements in the world and the physicality of it is further proof that I’m alive. It materializes as a confirmation of the fact that everything is moving; even if you remain stationary, your mind wanders. A constant survey of changing scenery sharpens my awareness in order to question further. I hope to leave the viewer feeling more decisively conscious of the independent existence of things and the unlimited capacity of our gaze.
