This series combines the lyrics from the song Suzanne with the Stations of the Cross. This body of work examines the role of spirituality, life and death, the journey of Jesus and in many ways how this journey parallels the journey of each of us through our lives. The lyrics “only drowning men can see him” were really what drew me to this work and I began creating these pieces by collecting discarded metal objects I found. As I created the work, it began to delve deeply into the dark thought that the only way we as a people are able to grow, change, connect to each other, and to something larger is by directly barreling toward our own death and destruction.

This feels in direct contrast to the idea of Jesus that I was raised with in the church. Jesus as hope, a savior, a son of God born of a mortals to save us all from any sins or missteps we may take.

In addition, in our current reality this idea of humanity drowning seems to be at the forefront of many conversations, those relating to global warming, the ongoing racial reckoning to address the sins of slavery and racism, the global pandemic that it seems we do not have the ability to overcome, and the many other forms of evil, oppression, and catastrophe that we currently face. Are we drowning? And do we have more faith because of this? Or are we losing faith as we sink?

I also liked this idea that the detritus I was collecting for these pieces was somehow also a possible representation of hope and/or our eventual demise. Stepping on a rusty piece of metal and getting tetanus was a deep fear that was drilled into me as a child, yet also, most of the broken pieces I was picking up were originally tools, car parts, things that make our life easier and more convenient, but also - now - dangers that might destroy us.

This series combines the lyrics from the song Suzanne with the Stations of the Cross. This body of work examines the role of spirituality, life and death, the journey of Jesus and in many ways how this journey parallels the journey of each of us through our lives. The lyrics “only drowning men can see him” were really what drew me to this work and I began creating these pieces by collecting discarded metal objects I found. As I created the work, it began to delve deeply into the dark thought that the only way we as a people are able to grow, change, connect to each other, and to something larger is by directly barreling toward our own death and destruction.

This feels in direct contrast to the idea of Jesus that I was raised with in the church. Jesus as hope, a savior, a son of God born of a mortals to save us all from any sins or missteps we may take.

In addition, in our current reality this idea of humanity drowning seems to be at the forefront of many conversations, those relating to global warming, the ongoing racial reckoning to address the sins of slavery and racism, the global pandemic that it seems we do not have the ability to overcome, and the many other forms of evil, oppression, and catastrophe that we currently face. Are we drowning? And do we have more faith because of this? Or are we losing faith as we sink?

I also liked this idea that the detritus I was collecting for these pieces was somehow also a possible representation of hope and/or our eventual demise. Stepping on a rusty piece of metal and getting tetanus was a deep fear that was drilled into me as a child, yet also, most of the broken pieces I was picking up were originally tools, car parts, things that make our life easier and more convenient, but also - now - dangers that might destroy us.

This series was inspired by a conversation with someone I’m associated with through my nonprofit justicework. They asked me, “Why don’t you put that in a painting?” It gave me pause as I usually think of my artistic work and administrative work as separate. It stuck with me though, as I was feeling very strongly about some things I was witnessing in the nonprofit and philanthropic spaces and generally in the many injustices we are witnessing in the world. 

I decided to try and start these abstract paintings. I have found I love making them, and love the paintings when they are complete, so the series continues. It has reminded me that in the face of a world that is on fire, art is how we stay human and is something we need to process, find joy, and see and work toward a just future.

This series was inspired by a conversation with someone I’m associated with through my nonprofit justicework. They asked me, “Why don’t you put that in a painting?” It gave me pause as I usually think of my artistic work and administrative work as separate. It stuck with me though, as I was feeling very strongly about some things I was witnessing in the nonprofit and philanthropic spaces and generally in the many injustices we are witnessing in the world. 

I decided to try and start these abstract paintings. I have found I love making them, and love the paintings when they are complete, so the series continues. It has reminded me that in the face of a world that is on fire, art is how we stay human and is something we need to process, find joy, and see and work toward a just future.