I dis-member/ I re-member
Memory, the simultaneous truth and falseness of it, is a recurring theme in my work. An entire world can be built around the center of a memory or the fabrication of one. Remembering is subjective, not entirely lie, but never completely truth. Where I grew up, and with whom, (what happened in reality and how I remember those events) forever shape the things that I see and say and make from the inside out. In the middle of us, there is memory, and it is from there that our reality, our world, is constructed.
Time and living things imprint themselves on the earth. Nature is full of traces, and a landscape is indexical to the creatures that have moved on and within it. A fossil is a fingerprint. Artifacts, like geodes, seashells, and bones, riddle through the earth like secrets and connect us to the aching span of life’s history, yet remain enigmatic. They make a connect-the-dots game spelling out the past lives of mountain ranges (or ant hills) in the obscurity of a dead language. And I, human, insignificant creature, collect these unknowable ghosts from the earth. I study them, I draw them close, and take comfort in the mysteries of the universe.