We rely on fabric in our daily lives, from the clothes we wear to the sheets we sleep on to the towels we use to wipe our mouths; fabric becomes a source of comfort, utility and beauty. I dream of my grandmother, Lois, setting the table, putting her plate down on her placemat, the one that she quilted herself. I see her laying on her blue and white picnic blanket in the woods near Manitowoc. The physical object I create becomes a memory of an object used over and over, embedded with emotion, a constant facilitator of and witness to our humanness. 

 

Another part of my practice involves the painting of sentiments, or scenes where the viewer is only allowed to see a still rather than the full story. Objects and figures are abstracted, cut up, reassembled, and repeated. In this way they become phantoms rather than distinct forms, able to represent much more than they could if they were painted clearly. For example, in An Ode to Teenhood the woman figure is not real but phantasmic, appearing only as a boot and some hair. 

 

In these scenes fabric is often still present. This is done in multiple ways, the first of which is through the use of stitched-together found fabrics - pillow cases, napkins, underwear, jean shorts, socks, curtains - made into canvases or otherwise manipulated to hold their shape in order to be painted. These processes give the resulting object a context within the domestic sphere. The second is through the use of the blanket motif. I am interested in the blanket representing the “inside” of the fence, pasture or house, and how this can translate to a sense of safety, real or imagined. In An Ode to Teenhood the blanket is placed over the middle of the woman.

 

Using fabric as my anchor, I plan to ask and answer questions about safety, sexual violence, and the complicated ways in which we relate to each other.