12″ x 12″ x 1″
resin, epoxy, plexiglass, digital painting, photographic print, beam clamps, metal
The “Depth Perception” series is anchored in a floating sensation, seeking out the beauty of optical illusions and contemplative, geometric possibilities offered by a shift in our perspective. I play with light, texture, and contrasting images in layers that remind the viewer to look at the world differently, and find inspiration and order amidst chaos and ugliness.
I find myself inspired by the beauty lurking behind “ugly” things, particularly those objects which suggest closure and entrapment. Manipulation of angles, light, and perspective allows us to find within the ruins some sense of hope, patterns within madness, and openings where previously there seemed to be none. This limited-edition mixed media sculpture depicts the unanticipated beauty of chain link fences and barbed wire alongside the green foliage winding itself skywards – life that manages to flourish despite the obstacles of a harsh reality.
I am attracted to the world’s hidden symmetries, and the ways in which angles, light, and open spaces merge together to form meditative imagery that too often goes unnoticed. The image itself is composed of mirrored photographs, spliced together to give the impression of a hypnotic spiral connecting everything, everywhere—and signaling that even the harshness of barbed wire cannot block out the sky, or sever the horizons of imagination.
Taken at an abandoned church in Atlanta, Georgia – near the location of some of ICE’s most brutal detention facilities, this photographic sculptural series (like much of my work) is as much about the movement of light / shadow (and bursts of hope) through these pieces as it is about the original photographs themselves. Images here reflect the many angles through which light hits the hardened resin and the variety of shadows cast – an intentional reminder that our perspective is everything.
Many years ago, a man I knew quite well told me “your heart is a razor wire pillow,” and I carry that with me: I see those words inscribed on every jagged edged fence, every spiral of bladed, barbed warnings. But the thing is, beauty comes with sharp edges, sometimes. And besides – I’ve always had a deep love for the places to which I am told I should not go.
The world belongs to us all. At least, it should.