We tell ourselves stories in order to live…We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the "ideas" with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience.- Joan Didion

Our actual experience is subjective. Is it even real and what is the lens we see it through and what are others seeing through their lens of that exact same experience? What are the stories we tell ourselves and are they helping us live? My work seeks to examine those stories, sometimes to tear them down, let them crash and burn. Both personal and our own larger stories as a people. I have found little use, comfort, or sustainability in what most of our society and government try to feed us about what is truth, what is right and wrong. How do we make something new? And better?

Abstraction always feels like a method to reinterpret; to present something through another lens more imagined and with a new language, rather than concrete definitions.I often work in a tearing down and building up process; erasing or sanding over certain areas and then returning to them. Referencing the figure and using paint as the primary material, and sometimes including other collaged elements, I use medium, form, and color to convey a narrative. Each piece has a backstory for me, a narrative impetus, and then moves to the physical act of paint and materials application. I deconstruct the paintings by scraping or sanding down areas and build them back up in layers, and then nail them to canvas to turn them into objects. Chewing gum, paper, sandpaper, charcoal, and pencil are other materials that get drawn in or glued to the surfaces. Painting is a “working from underneath” process for me; excavating what is under the surface; excavating the hidden corners of desire, story, physicality, and mysticism.

My photographs are dependent on various forms of travel and communities. They are a continued investigation of land, bikers, friends, and empty hotel rooms. I started my hotel series in 2014, driven by the comfort found within transient places devoid of personal memory. A home when there is none. My current project, Hinterland, is my first turn toward landscape photography. It is a photo and writing project that involves Route 66. It is commentary on a crumbling American infrastructure, the road itself as symbol and haven, and seeks to challenge the history of the predominantly male narrative of the American road trip.