I grew up speaking two languages, unaware of which one was which while I learned to speak. Like many bilingual children, I was subconsciously navigating between two different systems in an attempt to understand how the value and meaning of things subtly (or not so subtly) changed from one culture to another. It became important to understand the context of an idea, a word, an object, or a situation. This way of seeing things – of noticing nuance and gleaning systems of logic – has greatly influenced how I interact with the world, and it is the driving conceptual force in my studio practice.
How do we know what we know? I am interested in the thing, our interpretation of the thing, how we think of it, and how we convey its essence to others. I frequently return to ideas involving perception, memory, and language – how we look for systems and patterns to help us comprehend the world we live in. How does this information accumulate, and how does it structure our experiences going forward?
My work is generally informed by site, meaning I am often exploring the physical, historical, and/or psychological aspects of spaces and places. My process involves long observation periods where I collect physical materials, take photographs and videos, and visit and revisit locations to experience them. I look to understand that which cannot be seen – what a ray of light tells us by its movement, how a window pulls us around a room, the way we recognize rain as a blur on the horizon line – and I as do, my practice becomes increasingly expansive. I work with any material that serves my purpose, including words, which I treat like any other material, manipulating and arranging them in an attempt to solidify fragments of thought. The objects, installations, and poems I create present an alternative model of the world I experience, sharing the quiet nuances I discover.