As an assemblage artist, I sometimes think of myself as a whisperer of inanimate objects. I often feel true compassion for things that are damaged or thrown away. I see potential in things that are broken, and find beauty in rust and corrosion.
When objects are old, broken or no longer useful, they become evocative and appealing.
Assemblage art allows me to create small worlds, where I can tell tall tales, and evoke humor and stir emotions.
By nature, I am a collector of things. At the heart of my efforts is the need to rescue the forgotten or thrown away and to make art that is introspective. I happily rummage through thrift stores, flea markets, estate sales and even dumpsters, in search of precious baubles and bits. At times an idea for an art piece will come upon first sight of an object. More often, the object will sit in a pile of random things only to endure being repetitively placed together with other things until something visually clicks and a piece of art takes hold.
I use these found objects to tell a story, much like a writer uses words. The finished art piece becomes the storyteller, the dream interpreter and memory prod.
In the end, the narrative of each art piece comes from the viewer. The unrelated objects in each piece invite the viewer to look and look again, bidding them to lean in for a closer look. These “unwritten stories” run as deep as the viewer dares to go, while others reveal themselves with the simplicity of a nursery rhyme.