I lost two sisters and when I close my eyes I can’t see their faces. Seen, unseen. Here, not here. To hover - to linger about, waiting, suspended, uncertain. Loss feels this way. It is a begrudging unwinding of memory and emotion that never fully disappears.
My work explores the shifting focus of loss – how it isolates us, and how it connects us. Transparent figures in translucent places map a duet, a material and spiritual existence, and the threshold between the observer and the observed. These images are constructed by layering transparent photographic images with dirt, leaves, petals, eggshell, hair, and wings. Nature becomes metaphor: threads become roots, hair becomes veins, a thorn becomes a scar. The pieces are then scanned and printed life scale, creating for the viewer another sense of "hover".
I am interested in the mystery just beneath the surface – the relationship between the visible and the invisible, the known and unknown. With the selective clarity of deep ice, these images are the membrane that absorbs the convergence of truth, imagination and memory.
