Artifacts

“Attention is the beginning of devotion.”

— Mary Oliver

My work is born out of a practice of observation, giving attention to my surroundings, and finding meaning in the ordinary elements in the natural environment. The mark-making that comes from reflecting is purposeful in quieting the mind and creating a more internalized encounter with the natural world.

The story of Artifacts began when I was young. I spent hours sitting with my mother, watching her work on her silk needlepoint. She was bedridden with an ongoing assortment of cancers that originated from a metastasized lump in her breast, which ultimately took her life at just 37. The needlework she created is a tangible object that I can hold—tactile evidence of her hand at work, an artifact that serves as proof of her brief presence on this planet. My mother made her mark with thread just as I make mine with paint. The objects we create with our hands form a generational chain, becoming fragments of the essence we leave behind as mortal memory fades.

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My Process

Like my mother’s needlework, my artistic process is unhurried and contemplative. It begins by documenting the textures and forms I see in nature, whether through my window or abroad, with photography. This process honors and records the autographic mark that a place makes on a person. The photographs are decayed through digital reduction, akin to how the memory of a person or place fades over time. This reduction is intentional. It also acknowledges that the beauty of the natural world, viewed through technology, is never as magnificent as it is in person.

The visual images are carefully transferred to an acid-free, ultra-smooth kaolin clay ground panel, and then painted using fluid acrylic, medium, and a small brush. From a distance, the work may resemble a photographic image; however, upon closer inspection, one discovers a surface teeming with small stitch-like marks. This detail transforms the viewer’s perception of the original object. The brushwork is reminiscent of needlework, both in its physical application and in the emotional connection it invokes for me as a daughter—of a mother—who also made objects with her hands.