marking time
It happens every time. Even though I know it's coming. Even though I've experienced it before. It still creeps up on me… the post-solo slump. My work comes down. I drive past the gallery windows and see the empty walls. I feel a little anxious, decidedly blue, and somewhat at loose ends.
Read MoreGiving my artist talk for the Marking Time exhibition at Palmer Art, I was endeavoring to explain my lifelong habit, dare I say need, to collect objects. From a young age I have sought out secondhand stores, flea markets, and garage sales, searched for sea glass by the shore. I imagine all the hands that touched the object, wonder about the lives led; sense the history contained within.
Read MoreWhen I was dying cocoons with oak gall and walnut ink, tea bags and coffee grounds, I looked at all of the stained teabags and felt reluctant to toss them. This happens when I am captured by a material. At first I am not even sure what it is that draws me to it. Locked in at home all spring and beyond because of New York’s shelter at home orders, I knew I was fortunate. We were financially secure, had access to outside space and could work from home. I thought about the myriad lived stories across the world during this global pandemic. Each family with its own set of experiences. Children returning home, grandparents moved in for the duration – or worse, prohibited from contact with loved ones. Essential and health care workers on the front lines risking their own lives for others. I wondered what I would remember and hold onto from these long and difficult months.
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