...a hot and bright halo rings my hair as the summer sun and my sister chase me around the outside perimeter of my house. My shoe is untied and I am slightly pigeon-toed, but entirely invincible. Stone, grass, mulch, repeat. Small enough to dodge everything but a low hanging, thorned branch of a rose bush, the space between my eyebrows is perfectly scraped and my choppy front bangs just miss it. I had an upcoming birthday.
My work wanders through my subconscious/conscious childhood memories, arriving at a fascination for the essence of memory, dreams, and afterlife. In my observational experiences I theorize that we tend to attach ourselves, with an iron grip, to the ideas of objects associated with places of sentimentality as time passes, forging gaps in our memory. I find that I am only able to access these places and times through what I have left of my memory, what I could convince myself of, and dreams. I lived in the same house in suburban Long Island, NY from the time I was 8 until I left for college. Since leaving my hometown for the first time, exposure to other communities, environments, and ultimately different narratives provokes a fascination for anonymous memories. I understand the discarded or abandoned as unclaimed, physical memories. This prompted me to become more interested in metaphysical topics, including the significance of dreams, the collision of past and present memory, and most recently, afterlife. It is an effort to uncover - or recover - a reality with each object functioning as a beacon or artifactual talisman that until this point has existed only in my mind.
This results in pieces that surmount to a sort of cognitive map of my childhood home, physically distorted and abstracted by the interference of my emotions and fragmented recollection. Each object is born through a specific domestic icon plucked from my personal mental archive. My work is composed of sculptures depicting growing flowers, open doors, missing pieces, and miscommunications. It contributes to a dialogue about psychological relationships with objects of significant places.
Preserving memory is done through the process of duplicating objects in a different material to make the observer consider the purpose of the object and the material’s relationship to the object more in depth. While objects enter our personal worlds and exit before we notice, my sculptures make them immortal through reincarnation. Never exactly the same, these ghostly doubles are stripped of their place in time; they demand recognition and a moment of intimacy. Digital fabrication and mold-making processes have allowed me to recreate found objects entirely, or alter them slightly, to make them appear inaccurate, intangible; from our world and one that could be an in-between, like the one we experience in dreams.
Recently I have been most interested in exploring the way humans access memory and questions that linger in my mind about death...where we go, how we get there and what we’re able to take with us are just a few of the ideas I have been exploring in my latest sculptural experiments. My experience having sleep apnea for the majority of my life subconsciously fueled my curiosity for some known perceptions of death & afterlife, and their possible relationship to the dreamy state of the unconscious. My latest work, titled Portal in Experiment I and Portal in Experiment II, investigates my interpretation of the afterlife as somewhere we may have seen before, whether in dreams, memories, or both. Philosophical and religious perceptions of death and beauty inform my thoughts on afterlife. This caused me to meditate on ideas around death & existentialism, coming to realize that death may be one of the only things to truly unite humanity; one of the only undeniable universal experiences. Neoplatonist ideas centered around seeing God and Heaven through ‘beauty’ inspired me to draw from ethereal natural phenomena, especially the 22-degree halo that occurs around the sun or moon.
My experimental sculptures investigate the human condition, focusing on perceptions of memory, beauty, death, and afterlife. My chosen process of 3D printing Portals in Experiment I & II both gives me total control over their conception and requires me to relinquish some of it - urging me to design using a sixth sense or a feeling of clairvoyance that I believe would be naturally reached in death. The repetitive system of filament printers builds upward from nothing, tracing over and over again a body that I am trying to remember but have truthfully never seen before. Referential to visions and dreams, these works take the conglomerate shape of nostalgia – sea shells, bedsheets, water, yonic forms, smoke, light, flowers, marine life, etc. They function like a three-dimensional Rorschach inkblot; they aim to not tell the viewer anything in particular, but to encourage them to gaze into the void and experience a moment of introspection. Fleeting, like memories and moments flashing before one’s eyes – leaving them with a clarified version of themselves.