Myth is my vehicle for spirituality. My own process is very similar to the myths I draw from: I start with a sort of vague idea of where I want to take things, but as the work and the series progress, the directions and destination become clearer. This is one of the reasons why I like the process so much. The process of making sculpture is a spiritual practice for me. The idea of myth is a narrative form. I believe we all have some type of myth running through our veins. Myths are stories about people and myths help us see ourselves within journeys, within narratives and going through things that so many others have gone through before us. By giving us a way to guide ourselves, myths strengthen us and help us find direction. Myths help us find spiritual footing and make the point that, because of culture, we are never truly alone.
After graduating from college, I worked as an apprentice for Myron Barnstone, in Allentown, PA, who provided a rigor for my craft that I much needed. With time, I gained a vocabulary and the skills to go out on my own.
To find my voice, I moved to rural Idaho, and it is there that I established myself in galleries, public art, and collectors. It is also there that I moved my style from the Relationship Series to The Things We Carry. The raw landscape and wildlife became my muse. The departure also removed me from Myron’s’ influence.
Presently, I have returned to working with the human form with the series called Intimate Stranger, which was the result of visiting Walter Reed Hospital.