I find comfort in making, physically manifesting contemplation through labor. Though a gesture of generosity, the process is also compulsive, carrying the weight of an obligation. I am continuously navigating this dichotomy, negotiating the needs of my work with my own capacity to give; I empathize with the nurse. I feel deeply connected to and profoundly detached from the things I make, like a vital organ tethered outside of my body.

I am compelled by seemingly disparate images and observations. Sometimes they are deeply personal, sometimes they are sweeping and political. Often, they are both: scar tissue, soldiers in formation, capillary action, mending, protest rallies, the warmth and weight of our bodies. I want to articulate how material and form have the potential to simultaneously elicit tenderness, familiarity, and alienation. I am aided by the physical and emotive properties of clay and fiber. They respond directly to the pull of gravity and might bulge, swell, or sag like flesh. Through ongoing material investigation and labor my thoughts become sculpture.

It is unclear if my material or conceptual curiosity came first because they operate in tandem. When material confounds me, I turn to conceptual curiosity to keep me going. When the opposite is true, I yield to material investigation and process. I am grounded by the routines and demands of my studio, and my own capable body. I am my own foundation.