The house is still and quiet. I sit at my kitchen table with my sketchbook opened, surrounded by items that accumulated on the table throughout the day. There is an ever-present, yet always changing still life of a sort that occurs on my kitchen table. The set-ups are brief and temporary – the top of the table becomes a site for staging take-out dinners, grocery bags, and the daily mail. Things are handled, consumed, read, worked on, and when these activities come to a brief pause, they become a composition in an unintentional still life arrangement. And then, unceremoniously, these objects exit the stage and get discarded.
I am drawn to man-made spaces and objects that we surround ourselves with, especially when they subtly suggest a contradicting sense of time that seems both temporary and lasting. In my new body of works, I continue to examine disposable objects and cut flower arrangements as subject matter and explore their materiality, ephemerality, and their persistence. I also contemplate time and timelessness reflected in my daily sketchbook practice while considering the physical forms of books, pages, and book structures. A book contains within it both space and time – past, present, and future are all eternally present within the pages it holds.
I am interested in the fleeting nature of the present moment and the common and extraordinary way we structure our surroundings within it. I think about the beauty and the irony of the perpetual and inevitable passing of time. I engage in the act of constantly arranging and re-arranging my surroundings within this ever-present now. At least, for now.