Assembly
These pieces are bits of collection, experiment, borrowing from specific mediums, telling stories, and exploring pairings. The term “assembly” is the most accurate I’ve found to describe this practice.
The Pink, 2023
Approximately 2’ x 5’. Bright pink oil paint on linen, tied with warm-toned embroidery thread then levered off a wall screw and spreading out to anchor invisibly on the back of a piece of driftwood.
The Warmth, 2023
24” x 18”. A poem written in pairing with The Pink then embroidered on linen stretched over a frame. It reads:
Blew up blacks, blues,
greens, PURPLE
They’ve stopped mattering
quite as much
You
The warmth
Took over for me
Sparking swarming sharpness
Water-tight, 2023
Approximately 3’ x 5’. A poem embroidered in black thread on 3 sheets of taupe-colored fabric draped over found driftwood. It reads:
WHEN I KEEP MY HEAD SCREWED ON RIGHT
I KEEP THE ESCAPEES IN A WATER-TIGHT BAG
TAKING UP SPACE FOR NO REASON AT ALL
Remember This, 2023
Approximately 3’ x 3’. A sheet of linen embroidered with “Remember this” in light blue in the left top corner, is pinned to the wall with thumbtacks. A thin, curved piece of driftwood is attached to the linen piece by four points of wrapped embroidery thread which draw down into the middle of the cut opening in the linen. There hangs a sheet of taupe fabric with the ends of embroidery thread dangling on all but one, to which is tied a deep purple bottle with words etched in.
A poem accompanies this piece:
The washed up and plucked up
The hoarded in bottom drawers
The sorted by color
The newly purposeful
Deep purple glass
NECTAR of THE GOLDEN LIFE
of HEALTH AND VITALITY
Staubhullers Elixir Since 1880
The huddled in the kitchen corner
The crashing into recycling
The weight in his waving grip
The golden amber inside
Transparent cylindrical glass
Rebel Yell, Jameson, Monkey Shoulder
“Sorry, honey, you can’t fall asleep here.
This is a bar.”
The Dress, 2023-ongoing
Statement: I am super queer-looking. Somedays more butch, others a touch of femininity. I've had a complicated relationship with dresses and being told to wear them to please men. Wedding dress, sundresses, little black dresses. It's not always explicit, and oftentimes it's just for my fashion, my enjoyment. Well, maybe not so often anymore. And I love many men, some of whom I even want to find happiness in their lives. But, do I want to be the cause? Even indirectly?
I acquired this dress because it is something my younger, pre-serious-relationships self would have been drawn towards. Kind of shapeless, nice color, extra-long and flowy, unique. I've been staring at it and adding intuitively bits of fussing and bits of past pain. It has taken on a lot, just like me. It feels like a good representation of how far I've come, remembering where I've been.
Interview with a Knife, 2023
39.5” x 28” framed, $300.
A poem embroidered with thick black thread on taupe-colored fabric. It reads:
Grab the shimmering sword
from its butcher block home on the counter
Ride off to the arena
Cutting board spectators cheer you from the corner
