I make stuff from household detritus.
The materials are temporary, of little value and possibly distasteful. They are unexceptional in themselves but, within the work, can transform beyond their original intended use. This transformation has the potential to conjure new worlds and existences.
The making processes involved are repetitive and labour intensive. Mediocre material is elevated through a time-consuming non-sensical process of making to celebrate its' ordinariness.
Absurdly the materials often show little respect for the precision being attempted in the execution of the works..Within this there is always the possibility that the work may fail, fall apart at any moment, although the intention is not to set out to fail. This is an impossibility. Failure is freeing, it opens up a new horizon. Our lives are measured constantly. Continual success is required. But what happens if we just let everything fall?
The acceptance of potential failure is a way of welcoming hope, about not being tied to the literal or the real – as in humdrum everyday tedium that ties one to limiting experience.
There is a continual tug-of-war between the tensions of presence and absence, light and dark, certainty and instability.
These concerns are measured by subtle shifts, both actual and perceptive, responding to and reflecting those parts of our lives that cannot be pinned down, cannot be spoken of, cannot be shared.
But it is not all bleak. There is also wonderment and joy, light and generosity.
We need light to be able to see and to be able to see, we need shadow.
Shadow enables us to discern the 3-dimensional world.
Shadow both negates and enlightens, it is proof of our existence.
We cast a shadow; we exist.
Shadow can be played with, can tease us, frighten us and thrill us.
Shadow can give us the freedom to explore.
We can hide in shadow, be quiet in shadow, or shout very loudly in shadow.