I give my work as many lives as I can, allowing the work to eat itself. The relationship between making objects and the need to preserve them after I’ve performed actions upon them, shows the relationship between the work’s temporal nature and its permanence. There is an ouroboric element or phoenix quality to the systems I put in place, in both the concept and the process.
To regenerate. Things break down, get destroyed. We rebuild. We rebuild our mental worlds and our material worlds. I make remnants, collect remnants, of performances and sculptures, and of process. The remnants become the work, the physical and the video, the scars and the tattoo; the evidence is subjected to understanding. What lives through us is not what happens to us, but what remnants we hold on to. What remnants we hold on to in our physical world, what remnants we hold on to in our mental world.
The entirety of a piece is not laid out and presented to you in an organized packaged manner. You have to assemble the parts you have witnessed and think for yourself. Just as I am using boxes and categories to turn in on themselves, I bleed containers together to move in and out of established boundaries, false spaces.