An ant perched on an anthill, looking yonder while the sun sets, has a relationship contingent on that hill; it comprises the labor and time to build it and the births and deaths of ants in the process. Most notable is the ants’ relationship to the earth, what the earth provides and takes away from the ants. My methods of making approach concept through the same lens as that ant. My relationship with the work, through the act of making it, and the energy and time required, establishes many codependent interrelationships of materiality, form, content, and the body, all situated on the ground, just like the ant on an anthill.

Spaciousness, room to breathe, freedom to go where I please; I seek a nomadic life of sorts. Through my quest and fully equipped with unanswerable questions, I obsessively venture toward that pleasantly elusive horizon line, where the unknown can be magical, scary, sincere, or a complete disaster. Getting lost in its vastness, I find creatures that become my friends.