DANCE OF DECAY
DANCE of DECAY
A delicate balance between our environment and our human interaction with it seems important during this, the year of the pandemic. Although the virus is made by nature, it is also made possible by human interference. This relationship reveals itself to me as I study shapes of decomposition and microbial patterns. While in the studio, I view decomposing pods, unraveling bulbs, and dried aquatic fragments under a magnifying glass. In my current work, I find that the patterns of decay seem to echo the invisible forces controlling their movement. Paradoxically these delicate remains of life reflect both the fragility and the vitality of the earth and its oceans.
These images contain my fears and my hopes in response to our current climate crisis. The earth I have always depended on is undergoing dramatic change. And yet, the patterns of decay are constantly surprising me. Although I use close observation, these paintings are not strictly representational. My tendency is to amplify minute details, to pump up color saturation, and to intensify contrast to the point where the image becomes something altogether different. Observation of dead, inanimate objects offers me the challenge to imbue them with movement and activity.
Ambiguity of space in these paintings suggests that what is inside can seem larger than the container itself. Borders hold the objects; yet most of them cannot help but push outside these boundaries or spill back inside the frames. In a vibrant ecosystem, I see the process of decay as a cyclical dance in which the various agents play their parts. Ordering of the steps is important. Rotting vegetation, sun, wind, and rain all have assigned roles and are inscribed into the choreography. I find hope in nature’s ability to regenerate; even as the drooping blooms of a flower are about to fall to the ground, the smallest seed peeks out, hinting at its potential for new growth.