During the process of converting a church into a home and studio, everything familiar in my life began to fall apart. I had moved across the country and couldn’t find a sense of place, my grandmother passed away, and I felt the inevitable disintegration of a long-term relationship. Creating this body of work allowed me to commune with and transmute the pain, loss, and uncertainty into individual monuments to solitude and deep reflection.
There was a monastic quality to hand-tearing a variety of papers into small bits and tiling the surfaces of some of the works in a mosaic-like fashion. It also felt extremely important to incorporate specific salvaged items and found documents from the church building into the paintings and sculptures. As in much of my work, the humble materials I used in these pieces were handled, and ultimately imbued, with an elevated sense of meaning. I brought together and transformed these items into artifacts—memorials that now serve as a material record of the weight of the time and emotional context in which each was made.