Seams

My work begins with painting, then moves through disassembly and  reconstruction—an ongoing exploration of connection and division. Where  there is a seam, two or more things converge. These seams mark the  joining of materials as well as the meeting of times, places and states of  being. Moments such as sunrise and sunset, moonrise and nightfall fold  into one another, revealing how change itself creates continuity. In a  fractured world, the seam becomes both metaphor and method: a site  where rupture and repair coexist.

Seams explores the interplay of light, landscape and weather as a way to  map perception and memory. The shifting glow of the sun, the stillness of  the moon and the vastness of the night sky form a temporal and spatial  framework for orientation and reflection. Informed by distinct weather  patterns of coastal California, the marine layer, coastal fog and rays of light  emerge as visual language that mirrors the mutable rhythms of the natural  world.

My approach to abstraction is rooted in a physical, process-driven  practice. Pigments are poured directly onto fabric, or bleached to remove  color, to create a dialogue between accumulating and editing, masking and  unveiling, presence and absence. Materials such as cotton, canvas, nylon,  and silver lamé hold equal weight to the pigments. Cut, reassembled and  stitched, the surfaces echo tectonic movement and natural cycles of  fragmentation and repair.

Recent wall installations expand this practice through scale and suspension  and the responsiveness of materials. Often beginning with recycled or  discarded textiles, painted and sewn fabric panels are attached to wooden  supports allowing them to hang freely and respond subtly to air and  motion. In Fixing on a Horizon, multiple horizon lines reference sunrise and  sunset as shifting points of equilibrium and orientation, while Blue  Slip traverses gradients of blue, from pale to near-black that evoke  twilight’s liminal expanse between clarity and obscurity.

Across these works, stitching, knitting, layering, and suspension become  meditations on connection and fracture—memory and material,  permanence and impermanence. The resulting surfaces reflect the layered  experiences that shape how we see and move through the natural world.