This body of work was inspired by Ludwig Wittgenstein's final propositions in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, an investigation into the relationship between language and reality, which also aimed to define the limits of science.
 
            6.54  My propositions serve as elucidations in the following way: anyone who understands me eventually recognizes them as nonsensical, when he has used them - as steps - to climb up beyond them. (He must, so to speak, throw away the ladder after he has climbed up it.) He must transcend these propositions, and then he will see the world aright.
 
            7. What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence.
 
My Ladder Creatures, made from gathered twigs and hardware twine, rest precariously on each other. Their utility as ladders is negligible. When studied in silence they morph into spines, bones, appendages of unknown yet somehow familiar creatures. When massed they become a herd, dependent on each other for structure and balance.

Part & Parcel
Essex Community College
April 19 - June 11, 2021

The phrase Part & Parcel was used as a legal term in the 15th century, with part meaning “a portion” and parcel “something integral with a whole. ” So if a thing is part and parcel, it is involved or included in it, and cannot be separated from it.
 
The work in this exhibit addresses the costs incurred to our planet and our psyche brought about by our choice to believe we are separate from what we call "nature." Belief in the dominion of humans has led us to ravage the land, despoil the air and water, subjugate animals.
 
This has not been done, in many cases, with intended malice. It is an understandable human impulse to surround ourselves with beauty, with wildness. We build houses on barrier islands to spiritually commune with the ocean. We love birds and other wildlife, want to be near it, so we build houses on wetlands. We have, often unwittingly, destroyed habitat and livelihood for countless species, including our own.
 
In our ignorance and arrogance, our unwillingness to admit to being simply a part of the whole, we have created a world in great peril. It is time to assume our rightful place, to understand that we are part and parcel, integral and not separate, from everything and everyone.

Ancient texts, relics and fossils are the underpinnings of culture.  Our ethos is formed from the evidence we unearth.  From it, we create stories that we hold to be true.  The collectors of the evidence and the writers of the stories wield enormous power.  We must continuously examine their interpretations.   To do that, it is helpful to look into the shadows. 
 
I made these pieces by covering wire forms with cotton and plaster.  Each piece was then painted with lemon juice, wrapped in muslin and set on fire.  I soaked the barbed wire in vinegar to remove its shine.  The letters of the Codex and the Birds are suspended with waxed linen twine.

The Grid represents our social fabric, tested and frayed yet still somehow holding.

Capacity was based on a verse from the Tao De Ching -- "mold a vessel out of clay, it is the space inside that makes it useful."
Any vessel that is empty has the greatest capacity. 
Working with three sculptors, we  presented work to examine this concept.

After two years in development, I installed the work for Light on Water in September 2017. 
Below is the statement that accompanied the show.

At the very inception of life, swimming in our amniotic fluid, we are wholly dependent on water.  Our bodies mature, and we remain nearly 60% water.   In fact, our hearts are a full 73% water.  As much of a cliché as it is, and how often it is co-opted by corporate America, there is no truer statement than “water is life.”
 
With this work, I hope to shed light on the significance of water, to engender a desire to value and protect it.  I want to evoke the movement and the deep stillness – not only in the ponds and pools around us, but also in the streams and stillness within us.
 
My working process mimics the creation of ponds.   I pour acrylic and charcoal ink on a transparent plastic surface, allow the ink to pool and evaporate, then layer the surfaces. 
 
I chose this luminous space to present these pieces, wanting the work to be seen in the light of the world.

While making some monoprints by pouring acrylic and sumi inks on pieces of wood and plexiglass, I discovered a new process in the making of this work. Rather than printing from a block, I poured the inks directly onto my work table, manipulated them with trowels, and printed directly from the table. Stains, gouges, blobs of wax and paint, holes from removed staples -- ten years of history -- helped to shape the final product.

I was asked to take part in a project to give visual form to Wallace Stevens' poem, 13 Ways of Looking At A Blackbird. My stanza was "The blackbird whirled in the autumn wind. It was a small part of the pantomime."

I have come to a time in my life and career where, in addition to making things, I want to make things happen. As long-time community activist, I have looked to find a vehicle to combine my love of community with my art making/selling experience. With a generous grant from the Abell Foundation and fabulous support from our friends, Maxine Taylor and I launched East Side Works in November 2015.

The objective of East Side Works is to help artists gain a measure of economic independence by giving them the tools to start and sustain a cottage industry.
Working side by side with 5 East Baltimore artists, we are using a hands-on non-didactic curriculum and going through the actual steps necessary to start a business.

The mission of East Side Works is to produce affordable and trusted hand-made products that are created locally in East Baltimore by a diverse, collaborative workforce.