They Keep My Friend In A 6' x 9' Cell is a response to the occurrence of my fifth year sober, my start of graduate school, and my friend’s tenth year incarcerated. I spent 72 hours locked in a room making pinch pots as a marker of time, an archival of memories, thoughts, and emotions, and as an offering. During this time, I reflected on my life and my friend’s life, how time has affected us, what we have done with our time, and the emotions this has brought up. I see this piece as not only a reflection of these feelings but an offering of penance.
What is there left to do?
This work arose after “They Keep My Friend In A 6’ x 9’ Cell.” It attempts to map out my life and the lives around me, to represent lives in their unreformed or unrealized state, and to visually convey what the intersection of these lives looks like.
Protest Invulnerability is play on emotional and physical incarcerations both individually and socially inflicted. The ceramic installation converses on both the personal and removed, the pain of isolation, imprisonment, invulnerability and exclusion.
Five Hundred and Forty Eight Nights
Five hundred and forty eight nights. That is the amount of Sunday family dinners that a prisoner has missed during ten years of incarceration. This piece explores the visual accumulation of time, the tension of absence vs presence, and the inescapability of the emotions a family feels when a loved one is absent.
Containing Bodies is a reflection on how we contain the pieces of our lives. Terra cotta pinch pots house the remains of clay pots made during a previous installation. It is an exploration on how we hold onto memories and experiences in our lives.
Is This Still Life?
Is This Still Life is a reflection on the, often maladaptive, ways we try to cope with the perceived holes in ourselves. It is an exploration into the ways that one may try to fill these voids that are felt within themselves.
I use an earthenware clay body fired to cone 04. Using a variety of slips, underglazes, and terra sigillatas, I apply surface design to my pots. Colors, lines, and shapes record the residue of my memories transferred onto my pots.
I am simultaneously drawn to boundaries and repulsed by them. While growing up in a rural farming community, my first impressions were of the boundaries of farms and fields. These impressions, abstracted and simplified, guide and inform my imagery. Lines, fences, fields, cells, and the people contained within and without. I think often of why I am on one side of the boundary and not the other. Why do these boundaries dictate our beliefs, feelings, and views? How do these boundaries act upon how we view and define ourselves?