I am investigating the poetics of home and its inexhaustible tropes for meaning. This inquiry corresponds with my domestic experience: having a child and growing a family. Home is present and yet ever fleeting; its walls protect but isolate, the foundation espouses values. It is a container of despair and hope. I am questioning what goes in the corners. Is home a place for belongings or an immaterial essence of being?
This inquiry has pushed me from the comforts of of my love for painting and drawing into a realm of interdisciplinary media. I have built, destroyed, and rebuilt a home; remodeled with contractor waste generated by the prolific construction and transience of urban life.
These acts began with another: to incinerate a collection of sketchbooks I had accumulated since about 2006. Contained within these pages was the progression of a specific visual language. It was purposeful for me to let go of this past as this moment in life has motivated me to learn new ways of communicating. In this sense, my action represents a past life ended and new one begun.
“One returns to the self as if to an old house.”-Pablo Neruda