Two "To Do List" Scrolls

13" by 13" charcoal and colored ink sketches.

Recent experiments with ink and some charcoal.

These are a selection of drawings (including the ink drawings, squares, and to do list) I created during my time in the MFA program at Towson University. Mostly consisting of liminal spaces, a personal narrative is weaved through the work as the drawings were done from either family photographs or ones that I've taken. Hallways, baseball stadiums, beaches, parks, gardens, pathways, porches all teeter between the interior and exterior, security and vulnerability, public and private; areas that are conducive to reflecting while simultaneously holding expectations about socializing. Can we find the contentment of home through relationships and what spaces do we find them in? Often these liminal spaces trigger the coziness of childhood as well. Sitting on the porch wrapped in a blanket as it rains, walking on the beach barefoot etc.

This piece was created over the course of a year and half. Having just moved to Baltimore for graduate school I had become almost too focused on my work, not attempting to create much of a life. Feeling isolated and anxious working in my studio by myself I was curious about what happened during the week at the bar that I worked at (Friday and Saturday nights).
The bar slowly began to feel like a home (both the people and the space); it’s what made me like Baltimore. I found myself sitting at the same seat at the end of the bar once a week for around 6-7 hours with no pre-conceived plans. I would respond to the same objects and began to accumulate a mass of charcoal, graphite, and ink drawings of wine bottles, light fixtures, light bulbs, and corners of the bar in my studio where I would re-attach them; the work done at the bar impacting my other work.
Bars are places to socialize yet I found myself drawing with headphones on, human interaction readily available when I needed a break. There was a particular comfort in knowing that I could find connection being in a public place (rather than my studio) but my expectations almost always fell short; the last call light exposing the realities of vapid drunken exchanges. What I was left with was a record of memories through my drawings. I also began to think about the balance between obsession and reflection as well as the impact that light has on triggering memory. Memories are recollected differently each time, sometimes forming almost concretely before becoming slightly abstracted as they move in and out of lucidity.

The home is never as secure as it appears. Buildings burn, people die, relationships fall apart. My MFA thesis exhibition consists of drawings of the house that I grew up in and lived in with my grandparents until I was ten years old. I idealized my time spent their as a child and the traumatic loss of the house as well as my grandparents still impacts me today. I tend to find new non- traditional homes through people and places. Recently, I had found comfort and security in a relationship that I haven't felt since living in this house and the loss of it became the catalyst for the work. Are We Home Yet? was separated from a video that played in the back room by three tiny drawings. The video was created from sketches that I drew at a bar that I frequent as well as the one that I work at. I had trouble being in my studio for long hours by myself resulting in bar drawing being brought back into my practice. The sketches are immediate, raw, and emotional just like the drawings of the house; honest mark making becoming prevalent as a result of music and intuitive responses.

How do the environments we experience at a young age and our innate desire for connection affect the spaces we are drawn to as adults? What relationships exist between interiors and exteriors, security and vulnerability, private and public places, and obsessiveness and reflection? What constitutes the idea of home? How much of it is the physical structure or social interactions? What happens when we lose this comfort? What impact does time have on a way a space holds memory or expectations? What is the relationship between architecture and memory and how is it activated? Semi-private, semi-public liminal spaces such as gardens, doors, windows, bridges, and porches invite particular anticipations, but can memory and places like bars function in the same way?

The work examines these ideas, drawing the viewer into a mnemonic environment where fragmented elements near completion before becoming abstract and void; unfinished areas and mark-making remain equally essential. What was once an interior could be re-defined as an exterior or vise versa; the line between memory, reflection, and imagination also becoming blurred.

Loss is experienced through death, relationships, and spaces; concepts that relate to one another are processed through similar ways. Personally, this is what motivates the work: loss of the physical house which I grew up and lived in with my grandparents until they passed away, loss of relationships (and the spaces connected to them), and anxiety about finding comfort in future relationships and places.

All of these drawings are 4' by 2' and are made of charcoal and gesso on masonite board.