Time is a valuable thing. At times it tends to linger, however, often it passes quickly. Regardless, over time a history is created and a memory is generated. Whether the outcome exists as a thought, or an object, something is left behind. What is interesting is the buildup and breakdown of those events. The accumulation or decay of something, that will never remain the same. It is impermanent.
The world is a place of impermanence. We as a species are a prime example of this, starting to die the very day that we are born. This idea is a metaphor for my work. Clay is built up, fabric is wrapped, paper is compiled, and forms transpire, to exist only temporarily. Moments are captured rather than transformed into stone by means of a kiln. The works are vulnerable, impressionable, and like all living things will age, decompose and molder.
Aging is something of which we have no control. It is a disease without a cure, an ailment that we are unable to treat. It is something that is pondered, questioned, and ultimately feared. With that said, we are put in a position to accept the destiny of ourselves and our surroundings. In the end, what remains are the memories of the past and the beginning of a new future.