On Oct 3rd 2011 my mother died. Her heart stopped. And the world kept spinning. Any sense of security, any theory I’d ever had on life, on death… all of them were gone. Miserably inadequate and easily discarded.
I was un-tethered. Submerged. Drowning at the bottom of a sea of air. Edging through clouds, moisture-laden and consumed. Over the next few weeks I attempted to regain some composure, I learned slowly to talk about it as if it had happened to someone else, as if somehow it was, as people seem to think, a ‘natural’ part of life. The air had filled with water but I was still breathing.
Three years and eighteen days later, on Oct 21st 2014, my father joined her. Like my mother’s, his body was burned and the ash from his bones were spread in the waters of the Puget Sound.
This work is about what remains. It is made up of images, writings, objects and a variety of collaborations with other artists culminating in an exploration of relationships between surface, depth, and reflection. It is a study of the elemental, of absence, loss, and of the vertigo of grief.