My work draws upon themes of memory, place, time and the balance of death and rebirth. As technology, communications and transportation have minimized the impact of the separating oceans, lakes, mountains and deserts, these natural landscapes are no longer as barriers but primordial connectors, archives of wisdom.  As our world climate changes, what is it asking of us? Does it know something that we have yet to discern? 

 

Stone is time capsule of wisdom. The first time one cuts a stone it alters perspective of the world’s fixedness.  There is really no way to know a stone until one tries to cut it. Some resist and require intensive work. Others open easily. Some disintegrate into awkwardly shaped shards, while others cleave like butter. Surprises abound inside the stone where the interior may be a completely different color, pattern or texture, it may contain fossils revealing a history dating back thousands of years, or it may exude a pungent odor of trapped sulfur wafting out with each crack. The stone is us.

 

Yet even those despised man-made cast-aways too are our world. The same is true of shards of steel-belted tire from the shoulders of highways. Innate dignity and surprising elegance residing in the places we least expect.