The most recent body of work is based on my experience of the Root Glacier located in the Wrangell St. Elias National Park, Alaska. There, I spent several days walking on the ice surface exploring the hills and crevices of its enormous shape. It was a terrain without a distance where the near and the far folded into each other. Glaciers appear fixed and unchanging, however, they are continuously on the move. I experienced the landscape around me thinking about it’s shifting nature; while I was enveloped by what felt like an incredible stillness, I could sense it wasn’t because of the surrounding sounds of water trickling, gushing, gurgling, dripping, hissing, splashing. I was grounded on the surface of something ancient that is moving, churning ground, melting away. In contrast to the firm glacier occupying the landscape, my body felt short-lived. Yet the rapid melting of glaciers and the intensity of changes taking place in the Arctic is itself a fragile organism on a verge of extinction.
As the ice melts, its ancient memory fades away. Memory is narrow, incomplete. Over time, my recollections slowly subside. In the process of drawing, I acknowledge the fleeting impressions of my experiences. As my memories change over time, the fragmented landscape reflects its continuous depletion due to human-caused global warming. “The world is blue at its edges and in its depths.” The color blue signifies the distance between ‘here’ and ‘there’ connecting to what is continuously lost. I aim for the viewer to experience layered cartographies of our environments melding us across the physical boundaries of our disparate worlds to celebrate and grieve what we are failing to preserve.