Time rewards the curious in these intricate and interactive drawings. Immersive yet intimate in scale, these pencil on paper works are meant to be seen in both daylight and in the dark through provided UV flashlights. Using light as a medium, viewers control what is unearthed, what remains buried or unexamined. Though they are unmoored from a single, fixed meaning, when read sequentially, poetry emerges. Fore and ground reverse, and the standard two dimensions of drawing open up to illuminate unexpected spaces within.

These drawings are inspired by physics and bear the influences of light and optical art, and they are reminiscent of woven textile works. Some drawings are balanced and rigid, holding moire patterns within multiple layers; others are witness to an unraveling from within. Thin vertical lines girding the works from underneath set up the lenticular blurring and blending that plays on the surface. 

Rooted in graphology and semiotics, these experiential works stem from my own writing and demonstrate the subjectivity of perception, the impossibility of a shared and common vision. Most importantly, however, these playful works award attention with holographic effects that flicker and dance in daylight, speaking to language’s innate musicality, its mystery, its flexibility, its poetry and its joy.

These poems were written in tandem with Dear Friend and the Holographic Visual Poems. They are the source of the texts found in those works. 

Dear Friend is ongoing series of works on postcards that began in 2019 and continued through the global pandemic of 2020. Many in this series were mailed through the US Postal Service with personal correspondence written on the back of the artworks. They are about the uncanny experience of sensing presences who are no longer there. They represent our desire to nurture connection through unspoken bonds and communication methods, using non-linguistic signs found in nature such as color, light and texture.

These pieces are a response to the dearth of the natural and the abundance of waste. They are a product of excess and consumerism, beginning as links in the chain of mass consumption. As discarded cardboard, they come from violent origins, created by cutting, ripping, tearing, punching and stomping. These aren’t made from traditional tools of fine art, rather the utilitarian tools of both the laborer and the mischievous petty criminal. I believe these are both paintings and sculptures, trash and art. The eery forms acknowledge their humble beginnings but are ultimately and intentionally removed from them, expressing a desire to escape the ubiquitous trash of the city. I worry my city’s most lovely parks and gardens exist primarily for those of privilege and their pooping dogs. Our society offers up an infinite amount of ways to spend money, to accumulate cheap artifice. Can beauty come from shit?