Artist Statement
We go through our lives acting on our assumption of free will, all the while being bombarded with influence from other internal and external forces. Often, our personal stimuli—memories, inspiration, longing, lust—seem to come from somewhere outside ourselves, outside our control. Even our dreams are involuntary and untethered.
The passage of time and tug of gravity on our fragile physical selves weigh heavy and infuse our most optimistic and hopeful endeavors with the faint tang of futility and temporality. Any effort, toward outcomes both positive and negative, depends more than we care to admit on the cooperation of unknown strangers, indifferent physics, and the arbitrary nature of chance.
This body of work wrestles with our relationship to time, both in its immutable progression and in its plasticity. Regardless of our endless efforts to thwart it, save it, slow it down, we are helpless in the face of time’s steady march. Many of these works embody this concept through the repetition of figures, signifying sequential moments.
I have, however, also become increasingly fascinated with theories of the multiplicity of time. Perhaps moments are not linear and sequential, but looping, repeating, simultaneous. William Faulkner, in the famous line from Requiem for a Nun, writes, “The past is never dead. Actually, it is not even past.” Perhaps past and future are always with us, ever present. This idea, this question, this contradiction, is the conceptual underpinning of these works.
The passage of time and tug of gravity on our fragile physical selves weigh heavy and infuse our most optimistic and hopeful endeavors with the faint tang of futility and temporality. Any effort, toward outcomes both positive and negative, depends more than we care to admit on the cooperation of unknown strangers, indifferent physics, and the arbitrary nature of chance.
This body of work wrestles with our relationship to time, both in its immutable progression and in its plasticity. Regardless of our endless efforts to thwart it, save it, slow it down, we are helpless in the face of time’s steady march. Many of these works embody this concept through the repetition of figures, signifying sequential moments.
I have, however, also become increasingly fascinated with theories of the multiplicity of time. Perhaps moments are not linear and sequential, but looping, repeating, simultaneous. William Faulkner, in the famous line from Requiem for a Nun, writes, “The past is never dead. Actually, it is not even past.” Perhaps past and future are always with us, ever present. This idea, this question, this contradiction, is the conceptual underpinning of these works.
