My dog is me, I’m the plants that I grow. The studio is a factory for disembodiment and re-embodiment. The real work is in reanimation. Cherry stem ovaries, cast orchid jewels, a vocabulary, an index of feelings, metaphoric operants sown in the field. The gardener’s interconnected knowledge at play with the sculptor’s pursuit of the grid. Let’s continue living.
Terracotta is a life-sustaining medium. Some cultures eat it. Hands in clay, I think about Palaeolithic terracotta figurines buried underground and all of the history of clay. Charles Darwin had a fine collection of terracotta pots.
We compartmentalize the natural world and we showcase it. I wanted to exhibit a body of work bred for, always growing despite the times. A greenhouse collection of orchids cast in acrylic. Rarefied symbols, dichotomies glowing. The lightboxes in the exhibition frame cast specimens, they are signifiers projecting ideals, seed for tomorrow. Controlling genes is sick. Genetic expression is tolerated.