You may find it in your closet, inside a tucked away box, on your memory board, in a forgotten corner of your room, a cherished memory, an item that has deep meaning to only you, a junk drawer, a pile of clothes about to be donated to a thrift store, from a shelf in the garage or a relic of your past. Items that hold weight, hold you, hold me, to both of us. An item that was a quick thought or something well planned out. An item you share in the story to, an item you dropped off on my porch, an item that you gave me just to be a part of the work, or even an item that reminds you of me. The variety, similarity, and collection of items as a whole strings the truth of past interactions to the present, creating and displaying myself in the truest form. The idea of those who surround you are the building blocks to what mold you into the human being you are, vibrantly radiating through the work.
Over, under, over, under, over, under, over, under, over, under. The time, the moments, the process continues over and over again. The process, a process of care of love and of time. Time. Time. Time: something so cherished and hard to come by in an era of multitasking, always moving, and the business of life, the life caught within screens. Creating planes that connect a personal history through instinctive process of combing the variety of items generates a self, a narrative, a culmination of my surroundings and areas beyond connected through 1’s and 0’s. I collected the items by sending a video through email and Facebook asking for weave-able items.
The video encouraged creativity and original thought. I shared my appreciation for them within my life, acknowledging all the stories and times we have shared. It was sent out to as many people I could get in touch with — coaches, teachers, current peers, past teammates, middle school friends, childhood friends, neighbors, family, roommates and many more. Then meeting up in person for me to receive the items, getting boxes full with sentimental notes within, or a bag left on the doorstep indicated by a text on my phone. Through my re-visiting with these people, I was able to re-spark friendships, consider my past, catch up, and collect more than just material items but also the experiences of these varying relationships.
Being an artist who works in ways of collage as a base for my artist practice, I am also one who is involved with many different groups of people and activities. This has carried on my whole life, and it can become overwhelming and dif cult to see where you t in or where your place is in the world. Through these sculptures I am collaging all aspects of my life, contextualizing where I come from with where I am now in physical forms.
Items carry a history to their own extent; they become these items that we share monumental moments on, in, or around. They were our first home run, the shirt you wore on your first day of school, a fraction of another, a beloved gift, a relic of the family. At first this mindset may mean little but it is the act of generosity and giving to others that connects the two people. We live in a world where we hold onto things for no reason other than to hold onto the memory.
