When I make art, I am laying temporary pieces of ground under my feet to stand on. A place to pause and rest. Sometimes I can stay long enough and still enough to plant a seed, write a note, make a mark or anything to tell the future, that was me! I was here! I know this now, but I surely did not know it before now.
In 2014, a colleague stood beside me in front of a large painting I was showing for the first time. He studied it for a while, and then turned to ask: “But where are you in this work?” His question has never left me, and I have never honestly answered it. In truth, I did not understand the question, nor did I know how to recognize myself in my work. However, I have recognized aspects of myself in the way I work – at the level of process. How I make art reflects how I am (have always been) in life – restless, unrooted and always in motion.
Knowing this, I designed a process-based project in the form of a game that could harness the very habits, tendencies, and impulses that often play havoc with my art practice and block me from seeing meaningful connections. The aim was not to change or add new intentions to the way I make art (or to the art itself), but rather to shift the primary drive of my practice away from my ideas and into my hands, and then to pay attention to what my hands are doing.
What unexpectedly followed was a deep personal reckoning with my past, a clear-eyed look at the present state of things, and a commitment to continue making art in any way or form for as long into the future as I can.