There's this old man who used to ride his bike up and down the road connecting the small town I grew up in and the slightly less small town where I to high school. Every day he rode up and down that road, at all hours. Growing up, he became a constant feature in my everyday geography, a symbol of stability. I don't see him as often anymore, when I drive down that road. I wonder what he's doing when he's not riding his bike... I worry a bit when I don't see him, and sometimes I wonder if he's still alive. I'm actually starting to think he might be a ghost.
My recent work has been heavily influenced by my own personal geography and history, and deals with themes of change and transformation versus paralysis and stasis. Much of my recent work has been based in fibre with the incorporation of horticultural elements. I am really interested in fibres (threads, wool, etc.) because of their flexibility and malleability, and the tactile feeling of working with them. I often find that over the course of a work's creation, its direction changes multiple times, and working with fibres provides the physical flexibility to facilitate this kind of conceptual flexibility. I've also been interested in working with plants recently, because despite our efforts to control and manipulate them, we are ultimately at the mercy of nature in determining their outcome; I am drawn to the plant's natural ability to grow and change, which has been a driving theme of my current work. I'm also interested in their ability to die - I am especially drawn to works that have a limited lifespan, like us.