THE FELT STORE SPONSORSHIP

July 15, 2020

I’m happy to announce that The Felt Store has supplied a stash of remnant pieces of their wool blend craft felt for use in a new body of work. These pieces will further my work to date making abstract organic forms using stuffed and folded fabric elements, with the usual dose of surprises along the way, no doubt. With a working title of Every Last Drop, the project continues my commitment to utilizing scrap materials in my creative process and also refers to the many drips, bubbles, and ripples of this series.

It’s such a gift to be able to use this extended season of Covid to experiment with multiples at home on my own timeline. I’m reminded that last summer I strained to keep up with the prompts I had created for myself for participating in the 100 Day Project. Over the project timeline, a creator is supposed to brainstorm and iterate daily on a theme for over three months. This could be as simple as draw a cat or as complex or conceptual as one’s own imagination. While it is a powerful way to push through blocks and those nagging questions of whether something is ‘good’ and just keep going, it was difficult for me to share pieces on social media that I didn’t love, which is simply inevitable over that period of time.

That said, it was also during this period that Guide Stars rushed into being, a body of work that I’m quite proud of, so I’m convinced of the value of the effort while at the same time wish there was a way to hold one’s self accountable without having to publicly post so many duds. This summer I’ll enjoy going at my own pace and presenting images of my work when I’m satisfied with them. Without the other experience, however, it’s likely that I wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the beauty in this kind of slowing down. Despite the challenges brought on this year, I hold huge gratitude for the endless opportunities to reflect, create, and grow.

MAKING EMPTY HOUSES HOMES

July 1, 2020

A couple of weeks ago, Claire, in her alternate role as marketing director at the Houston Furniture Bank, asked me if I might donate work to the inaugural show and auction at their art gallery. I’d never been to the space and offered to drop the pieces off and get a tour. I’d be remiss in mentioning that a car trip outside of my neighborhood held a rare thrill given 2020’s unique terms.

In hindsight, I could have made more of the opportunity to pose with a heap of foam, but I suppose after months of solitude, any performative instincts will require some warm up.

I donated Spring Moon to the auction and Blue Drip to the gallery. While I was delighted to learn that the former sold to an eager bidder, I was more excited by how quickly I was notified that the other piece had also been claimed.

I do hope that other artists in town will consider contributing pieces to the effort (details here). The auction raised funds to provide new beds to children in need in Houston, while the gallery donation provided a family with an original work of art to take home. The experience really made plain to me the thrill of adding to the energy of a fresh start and I look forward to fueling this initiative into the future.

RED ALERT

June 28, 2020

After an especially gray week that essentially felt like one long rainy afternoon, the mere sight of sun, not to mention how it saturated the piece I was working on, seemed worthy of adding to my list of everyday magic. Less welcome and hardly a surprise, however, was the notification I’d received earlier in the day along with other Houston residents announcing that the virus threat had escalated to its most severe level, a most unfortunate coincidence.

BLUE WEBS

May 18, 2020

Seriously underwhelming image quality, but these illuminated creations were a highlight of a recent evening power walk to the Buffalo Bayou trails near the Dunlavy.

The ability to draw delight from the smallest of discoveries has served me well these past months, whether out on a pedestrian fungi patrol, enjoying periodic evening serenades from the Gulf Coast Amphibian Chorus, or stumbling upon the sweetest mini succulent planter in the Museum District one evening.

I’d venture that the jasmine has been sweeter for longer this spring and that there are way more anoles darting across the sidewalk, but it’s just as likely that I’m simply paying way more attention as the world has quieted and slowed down.

BLUE BAYOU INSTALL

May 15, 2020

Shortly after our stay at home order expired I was notified that a large commission I’d finished in March would be ready for install. I’d anticipated feeling strange to be working in proximity to other people after some six weeks of relative isolation, but the thrill of getting to see a substantial project to completion was by far the tone for the entire afternoon.

A couple of days later, I got a troubling call, informing me that there’d been ample feedback since install that the bayou looked too much like a sperm. The irony, of course, is that I'd been thinking the design had a fertility motif since the beginning but figured if they were happy with that messaging then so was I. To abridge an epic tale, I was assisted in getting the offending portion of the bayou back home and was able to transform the ‘head’ into another whiplash curl.

Everyone was pleased with the outcome—and true to form, I’m looking forward to seeing what I can make from the areas I cut out…

I have a few additional pieces in this lobby as well, after all, what’s a moon and a bayou without a few Guide Stars?

MASQUERADE

April 24, 2020

I didn’t think I’d be able to fall in love with a mask until I saw the ones Julia Kwon was making for her Unapologetically Asian series. I met Julia few years ago during a residency at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity, where she was making giant textile pieces out of Korean fabrics—words fail, but her images help.

She describes the face mask pieces as follows:

The work is in response to the fact that preventative mask worn especially by Asian people has largely been perceived as an unnecessary overreaction, a proof of illness, or an open invitation to commit hate crimes during the COVID-19 pandemic. Now a growing number of officials and health experts argue that people should wear non-medical fabric masks in public to help prevent spread of the virus. Kwon's work unapologetically embraces her ethnic identity to confront coronavirus-related racism that is prevalent today.

While it has nothing to do with her concept for the project, I feel like I have the most exotic beak in the entire grocery store so attired. Given the scope of denial about the virus, I figure imagining myself as a bird while out doing errands is nothing.

FLATTENING THE CURVE

March 19, 2020

While I hope that in the not too distant future, the title of this post will confound a reader, right now, it refers very obviously to the shared global experience of staying put and limiting social interaction in the hopes of slowing the spread of coronavirus, our current pandemic .

Faced with the suggestion of weeks under ‘lockdown’, I’ve overheard many different sentiments, mostly on the nope, can’t do it side of the spectrum. For me, spending expansive stretches of time by myself is a givenn — in solitude is how most artists breathe — so I had no concerns about my psychological ability to handle the situation. What I didn’t expect was the absolute relief it has offered. At the risk of sounding sanctimonious, being freed from all expectation of social participation has been among the more expansive sensations I’ve had. It’s as if the energy I donated to the ongoing inner conflict of whether or not to attend this or that event has poured straight into the vessel of creation; truly, I can’t remember the last time I felt such a fire to experiment, prototype, and create.

That said, what I’m up to now draws heavily on a previous work, Ripple Effect. While that piece was made of discarded neoprene sponge gasket centers, these pieces employ the leftover stash of virgin felt acquired during a commissioned project. The term ‘ripple effect’ has jumped out to me numerous times daily in reading about the potential economic aftereffects of the coronavirus. Similarly, at the time that I first made that piece, the fallout from the 2008 crash was continuing to regularly conjure the metaphor.

These new pieces I’m making, like their predecessor, employ accumulations of folded fabric, yet are wall mounted sculptures. While they may appear three-dimensional, the works all have flat backs, hence my reference in the title to the tagline of public health initiatives. My other intention with these new pieces is to create noise-canceling decorative works in joy inducing colors and textures. With all of the time we are spending at home these days, I feel like anything that may mute out the neighbors, not to mention the constant clang of the media fear machine, is urgently useful.