When I first started making this work, I was focused on learning how to use the welder like any other drawing tool. Through my exploration, a hardy studio practice has evolved that enriches the work layer by layer. The repetition of my methodology is ritualistic, I honor the gift of being able to create these works. The pieces are always made the same way; starting as a solid sheet of paper, cutting the hexagonal shapes, waxing them, and welding the steel on top of the paper. My use of the welder is three fold, it is essential in the physical construction of the hexagonal components, the marks made on the paper help produce the illusion of greater depth of field and the burning of the paper is the final act of sacrament, releasing the offerings to the universe.


I work within the hexagonal form because it is nature's organizing system. Scientists believe it is because it is the most space efficient shape. I am intrigued by the uniformity of the natural order, from the hexagonal core of every spider web, to the 60 degree angle at which branches shoot off tree trunks. I was delighted to learn that outlining the outer corners of a perfect hexagon will create a 360 degree circle, similarly to outlining the outer edges of a human being with outstretched arms and legs will form a 360 degree circle. Deepening my interest in the natural shape of the hexagon.


The work straddles somewhere between drawing and sculpture. Not simply because it can be described as marks on paper or that the work starts as a solid, or that the components are three dimensional, but because of the physical presence of the work and it's relationship to the viewing wall. The ceremony of preparing the paper, waxing and construction initiates a very close physical relationship with my materials. This process generates a visceral experience that engages the viewer in an intimate way. As one leans in to get a better look, the head sways and tilts from side to side, going in a bit further to smell the intoxicating concoction of the sweet scent of bees wax and welding. The smell fills the viewing space and awakens all five senses. The drawings seem delicate and precious, yet they are sturdy and resilient. As the cinders and slag pieces fall and are left behind, the work continues to reduce and evolve into a new form.


I live and work in New York.