Across the Fence Line 2010 This installation charts 97 Superfund Sites and high-risk industrial facilities using or producing toxic chemicals along the Mississippi River from Baton Rouge, Louisiana to New Orleans. The paper made for this work has Black Willow bark inclusions; stands of these trees can cleanse toxic groundwater in a process called phytoremediation.A fragmented dense black line created by burning into the wood leads you down the path of the river. This is flanked by elements of text and satellite maps of the refineries found dotting the rivers edge.
Dendritic Vestiges 2010 This work was created in collaboration with a colony of aphids living in my garden of Kale and Mustard Greens. As the aphids ravaged the greens and they turned to lace. Much like a vanitas, the ephemeral beauty found in this decay is a reminder of our own temporality.The delicate, gestural lines of each leaf and the subtle shades of chlorophyll bleeding of onto the paper draw you in. In person, those who lean in to observe the filigree get a glimpse of white printed drawings of the aphids, displayed as a silent acknowledgement for their efforts.
Allegory of Elmers Isle 2009 This contemporary Wunderkammer focuses on dialectical relationships between nature and artifice, through the collection of objects found along the shore of Elmer's Isle, a unique place in Louisiana where the lands end is the gulf rather than marsh. Synthetic objects' are surreptitiously displayed among the natural and organized by aesthetic relationships and tactile qualities.In this environment viewers are the activating agent, constructing meaning by questioning the relationships between the objects lining the walls. Such as, fragments of bone and foam in the same shape, gnarled plastic the exact hue of a broken crab claw, or pieces of metal mimicking the surface texture of stone.
67 Bricks 2009 The work 67 bricks developed from an experience I had with the word tabernacle at my grandfather's funeral service. In the archaic sense this is defined as a temporary shelter, tent, or dwelling place. My encounter defined the body as tabernacle, as a temporary housing of the soul. The repetition of the word rolled off the pastors tongue more times than I could count during service. I contemplated this word for ten and a half hours while driving back to Baton Rouge from Saint Louis. This work was a homage to my grandfather’s life spent as a contractor and masonry builder. The pulp used to create the textural mortar lines was created from his old work t-shirts I had collected.