As a first grader, riding in Dad’s ’67 Chevy shortbed pickup in the center of the bench seat (between them, no seatbelt) I was fascinated by the repetitive, rhythmic movement of telephone poles. We were driving through the Mojave Desert, going on a back road from Lancaster to Rosamond (then on to Tehachapi), where there are endless lines of ruddy, creosote telephone poles with tension wires at various levels of slack. The poles whipped past, punctuating the sky, defining our speed. It was mesmerizing (it always fascinated me, but on this one particular day, I got this overwhelming sense of them being planted in the Earth). It was like I pulled a camera back and realized these poles were here, stuck in the ground, on the surface of a planet. And here we were, rushing along the highway, in a wide open space, on the surface of a planet. And the planet was spinning, and it was out in space, surrounded by other spinning planets. These man-made objects, we as humans, the truck, the beer can in the paper bag (watch for cops!)—it was all planted, moving on a surface, moving and infinitesimal. Of course, I didn’t know the word “infinitesimal” then, but I did have a love affair with Jupiter, whose colors still infect my artwork.
Desert (Loss), 2015 – Project/Artist Statement
Desert (Loss) investigates the suspension between loss and distance, through the language of a fractured desert. These remixed landscapes imply the weirdness of the West; vastness and density become memories of memory, mutations of a white-hot encounter. Historian Simon Schama says “landscape is a work of the mind. Its scenery is built up as much from strata of memory as from layers of rock,” just as our own stories and memories are constructed of layered moments.
My strata are flattened, graphic layers, which suggest the way recollection develops a fictional sheen, with pinpoints of lucid detail; certain moments burn and remain. The play between flatness and depth asks what it means to inhabit the space between memory and experience, where fleeting exchanges flare and dissolve. My compressed imagery is remixed, just as we shuffle memories like tracks on a playlist—moments fade and recur. Some details get replayed.
In processing a personal sense of dislocation and loss, I am drawn to the landscape of media and television—complex spaces I’ve inhabited in life and through the ambiguity of fact-fiction. Like memory, TV offers a dual sense of place, a spark of the ‘here’ and ‘elsewhere.’ Imagery in Desert (Loss) remixes my own media-infused artwork, drawing on television, personal photographs and even Google Street View to form a composite desert; a California-New Mexico-Hollywood of past and present.
Solo Exhibition Opening:
New Grounds Gallery
3812 Central Ave SE
Albuquerque, NM 87108
Exhibition runs through November 30, 2015.
Artist / opening reception: Friday, Nov. 6, 6-8 pm.
Printmaking Demo (of my serigraphy techniques), Friday, Nov. 6 (6:30 pm).
Sneak Preview: Tuesday, Nov. 3 – Thursday, Nov. 5, 2015.
The curator’s favorite: