And just like that the end of the summer swims into view—although show is up for a few weeks yet—CLOSING RECEPTION is tomorrow night, 6-8pm at mActivity Fitness Center in New Haven, CT. Swing by, would love to see folks!

mActivity Fitness Center

285 Nicoll Street, New Haven

Thursday, September 1, 6–8pm

Details: Archival inkjet prints on Hahnemühle Photo Rag Ultra Smooth 305 gsm. Images are 8” x 6” on 19” x 13” sheets. Color photographs, printed 2014 and 2022. Edition of three. Signed, stamped, dated, and numbered on back. Nielsen frame, 6ply mat, and museum glass.

CLOSING SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 18

Thrilled to announce a show opening TOMORROW and up for three months (!!), co-starring with Esthea Kim’s delightful paintings of clouds and atmosphere. We had a blast hanging it last week, exploring the resonances between my spare photos and Esthea’s voluptuous yet prankster rain clouds. Many thanks go to curator Barbara Hawes for finding and pairing the two of us together—only her imagination, perseverance and infectious joy and advocacy could whip up a show so quickly. Hulls Art Supply framed my pieces in record time and I’m thrilled with how they came out—gorgeous. If you’re in the vicinity, please come by for a merry mixer with no shortage of libation and sustenance.

Pieces are from series of photographs called HOMING—exploring where I live when I first moved into my apartment in New Haven. A lot of the furnishings were from the previous tenant who had wonderful taste, but I felt strange, almost like I was visiting, laying my things with hers, now mine, and figuring out my place in this place. These photos are visual notes of this and there, looking out, looking in, sheltering, claiming and loosening—those moments before one fully inhabits and forgets the darling details, or becomes so accustomed to the new geometry and choreography of living that one slips across its surface like the interior of a shell.

If you’re in the vicinity, please come by tomorrow for a merry mixer with no shortage of libation and sustenance.

mActivity Fitness Center

285 Nicoll Street, New Haven

Thursday, July 7, 6–8pm

Catmint, Nepeta racemosa ‘Walker’s Low’

Pretty, romantic and where fairies might roam. :)

A lot of my recent work explores frameworks of order and what might be considered its opposite, disorder—but, I think, a better word is dynamic. 

During the government shutdown a while back, I was waiting for supplies stuck in customs and started a series of drawings exploring plans for a large-scale installation. The install never happened, but the drawings took on a life of their own and are still evolving, almost two years later. 

The series is called Troika, referring to a 19th century carriage drawn by three horses. The middle horse toes the line, buckled to the carriage in an elaborate harness, striding forward in long wide arcs. In contrast, the two other horses on either side are buckled less rigidly, looser. They respond to the actual conditions of the road — its uneven terrain, pits and stones, distractions, fears, curiosities — improvising in the spaces within the structure of a particular and ever-changing journey. 

These are ideas I explore in my drawings and installations. I start with a grid or a defined framework, and then the piece grows from there. My hands, biases, intuition, compulsion, desire and frustration buck against and press into the system initially laid on the paper. The drawing captures an interplay between mark-making and erasing, choices and decisions, input and feedback. I stop when that interplay comes to a rest.

The drawings may appear abstract, but to me, are literal. How to act, how to perform, how to widen what’s possible, how to pull away and reimagine what could be? Can we play and interplay with each other? Can we cherish these improvisations, these wellings of need and desire? Can we listen, and shift, and change? Can we find and create something new, something strong, something tender, something that sustains? That includes more of us all moving forward together?

This is it! We are coming to the end of day ten! Troika 39 here — made some months after the others when a lot had happened between winter and summer. I left my fancy job, with completely unknown prospects, and I left the country for the summer to study ancient Greek theatre in Delphi. 

I carted my drawing supplies across the ocean, made friends, and worked on scenes, storytelling, movement and drawing. I felt the power of words, history and land coalescing as we stood on the Temple of Dionysus — overlooking the Ionian Sea, mountains at our back, the language of ancient poets crying out for justice, an end to war, more love of this brief life, and hope for a merciful expansive future — words soared into the air, into a pink sky and impending storm that never broke.

Everyday for ten days, I’ve released one print from my series called Troika, one print per day. Twenty percent (!!) of every sale will go toward Georgia-based justice and voter outreach organizations. Each day, the first person who buys a print has the option of a virtual studio tour with me — or a friendly telephone call. 

This is a no-touch studio sale, ending on TONIGHT and available only through me online. 

day 10, drawing 1-: Troika 39, 7/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM me for inquiries. And if it’s after today, still DM me. You never know, ask and you might receive. :)

Why does this work feel so pertinent to me right now? Why this urgency to sell, right now, and commit a significant portion of sales to justice and voter outreach? Because while these drawings acknowledge the orders we abide by, they also peer out, to look beyond, and say, yes, there’s more to this living and loving and working than this. There’s more to make, imagine and build. There’s more of us to serve and there’s more of us to be served—justly, humanely, expansively, diversely. More to believe, more to love, more to care for and about, more to invite in, and more to stir up, bear witness, hold, undo and create. That’s why. I am not an optimist, but I have hope. 

. . . and we’re coming to the end of day nine! 

Everyday for ten days, I’m releasing one print from my series called Troika, one print per day. Twenty percent (!!) of every sale will go toward Georgia-based justice and voter outreach organizations. Each day, the first person who buys a print has the option of a virtual studio tour with me—or a friendly telephone call. 

This is a no-touch studio sale, ending on TOMORROW and available only through me online. 

day 9, drawing 9: Troika 38, 3/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

Early one Sunday morning I realized a Forsythe concert series was ending that afternoon at the Boston Ballet. I called/texted a girlfriend until she woke up, gave her a lean 40 minutes to get ready promising coffee and croissants for the drive, then bought tickets and leapt into the shower. 

Who’s Forsythe? One of the greatest living choreographers — and a visual artist. William Forsythe was the director of Ballet Frankfurt and then of his own company, which regularly visited the Brooklyn Academy of Music when I lived only a few subway stops away. ‘In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated’ — with lithesome virtuosic Sylvie Guillem and music by Thom Willems — could be my theme song/movie track/truck me off to the cemetery any day. Fangirl gushing aside, we had a wonderful day, and I even got to see the man himself wending his way to the concert hall and not crash the car, or terrify my friend, too much.

Sitting high in the balcony, seeing the stage fully, I was struck (again, always) by the architectural organization of his pieces — the stark lighting, the long direct entrances and exits, the scale of the entire company moving in unison then shifting into smaller groups diverting, overlaying and slipping through each other, and niching down further into intricate trios, duets and solos. Choreographic rules abound, and yet the structure of the pieces are heightened and rebuffed by the organic expressivity of the dancers’ bodies—musculature and feeling within each, mingling and spliced among others.

Here, in Troika 33, I was given a new order, arbitrary, but an order to explore and work through, press into and push away. Crossings, grand flights, sweeps and single runs define the page. But I am still impatient. The pitter patter of my fingers mince in the high relief of shadows and half-light, plumbing for a way in, to make a mark, to interrupt, to deny and acquiesce within a collision of assertions and invitations.

day 8, drawing 8: Troika 33, 3/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

The narrative begins to shift. The underlying grid—rendered in every drawing—entirely disappears. The mark-making and effacing seek new directions, set loose from bindings, released from dampening strictures. Erased or obscured beneath layers of graphite, here, the old order gives way to a new rhythm—explosive, passionate, curious, vulnerable, hopeful. 

Everyday for ten days, I’m releasing one print from my series called Troika, one print per day. Twenty percent (!!) of every sale will go toward Georgia-based justice and voter outreach organizations. Each day, the first person who buys a print has the option of a virtual studio tour with me—or a friendly telephone call. 

This is a no-touch studio sale, ending on Friday and available only through me online. 

day 7, drawing 7: Troika 31, 2/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

day 6, drawing 6: Troika 29, 2/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, edition of 10, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

Processing image files is very hard for me — physically (sitting there), sometimes technically ("why isn't this working?!?"), and emotionally (a roller coaster ride). I've always done my own prints — in this case, to convert the drawings into prints, I took high resolution scans, spent hours or days editing in Photoshop, and ran too many test prints to admit. I'm very particular and it's always a question, “does this meet what I set out to express and make?” Of course, sometimes there are welcomed surprises and I go from there. But . . . man.

That initial editing and test printing, I would delegate out in a heartbeat — it is brutal! And with every print, one has to accept and expand, embody in a way, that each iteration is an offset of the work, slightly or somewhat different from the moment of creation. And every decision we make, aesthetically and technically, and every omitted decision, is captured in the final product. It's a great argument for creating a team, LOL — to have a shared experience and objective with others — because it's hard to talk with people outside the process about why you're upset, "Yes, I need a drink! The light areas and dark areas aren't reading here and then there and I've printed this SEVEN times!!" Mmhmm, that’s a nebulous, shape-shifting angst.

day 5, drawing 5: Troika 27, 2/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, edition of 10, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

day 4, drawing 4: Troika 25, 2/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, edition of 10, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

day 3, drawing 3: Troika 23, 2/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, edition of 10, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

Everyday for ten days, I’m releasing one print from my series called Troika. Twenty percent (!!) of every sale will go toward Georgia-based justice and voter outreach organizations. Each day, the first person who buys a print has the option of a virtual studio tour with me—or a friendly telephone call.

day 2, drawing 2: Troika 20, 1/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, edition of 10, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

DM for inquiries.

As I said in my last post, I keep returning frameworks of order and disarray, order and bucking against or teasing into that order.

There’s an analogy that makes sense to me and maybe you get this too: some of the most striking and delightful planting designs follow a rigid grid when the plants are first installed on site — but what catches my attention is how a couple years later, after they’ve established and bulked up, you can see the plants jostling for space, how they thrive or fail, or colonize into new areas. The initial design matures into an unanticipated, evolving entity, one that is robust, resilient and surprising. We enter into a relationship with what we’ve planted — where we try things, add or subtract new material — we experiment. We see what happens and the design takes on a life and trajectory of its own, that we could not have pinned down or predicted.

I take these ideas into my drawings and installations. I start with a grid or a snapshot of an order, and then the piece grows from there—seemingly on its own, but certainly through my own intuition, compulsions, desire and frustration. What results is a drawing that captures a dialogue between mark-making and erasing, choices and decisions, input and feedback. I stop when the dialogue appears to end.

day 1, drawing 1: Troika 19, 1/2019, image 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, archival print on a Hahnemuhle photo rag 19” x 13” sheet, edition of 10, signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered.

Hi,

It's been a minute. I hope you're well and taking good care of yourself.

I wanted to let you know that, over the next week, I’m doing a studio sale — and I'm committing 20% of all sales to Georgia-based justice and voter outreach organizations.

If you follow me on social, you know that I'm releasing one print per day over ten days. But to you, here, I am sharing all ten prints so you can see them all at once.

The series is called Troika and refers to a 19th-century carriage drawn by three horses. The middle horse toes the line, galloping from point A to point B, buckled to the carriage in an elaborate harness. In contrast, the two horses on either side respond to the actual conditions of the road — its uneven terrain, pushing and pulling to avoid pits and stones — improvising within the given structure of a particular trajectory, a single journey. 

Much of my work revolves around this idea: where form devolves and pulls apart, where order breaks down and is reimagined, where the space between things expands or collapses, compressing and opening into what wasn’t there or anticipated. 

Throughout the winter and earlier this year, I converted ten of the drawings into prints, each in an edition of ten. So, if you're interested, please reach out to me!

The sale is this week only.

I can't wait to get these prints into your hands and I can’t wait to see what we can raise, together.

Details below.

This is a no touch sale, available only through me online. I will ship or drop off the prints to you. 

Only one print of each drawing is available framed, so don't hang back.

If I don't say so myself, they are all gorgeous. And if you miss out on a framed one that you wanted, don't worry — you'll have no trouble getting them framed. Too, you'll get to see all the details and work that goes into each print. 

Images are 14 ½” x 10 ¼”, and printed on a 19” x 13” sheet of Hahnemühle photo rag, archival ink and paper. Prints are signed, stamped, chopped, and numbered. Edition of ten.

Contact me for inquiries.

Remember, the sale is only this week. I look forward to hearing from you . . . and hallelujah.

I wanted to let you know that, over the next week, I’ll be doing a studio sale—and a percentage of all sales will go to Georgia-based justice and voter outreach organizations.

During the government shutdown a while back (remember that?), I was waiting for supplies stuck in customs and started a series of drawings exploring plans for a large-scale installation. The install never happened, but the drawings took on a life of their own and are still evolving, almost two years later. 

The series is called Troika, referring to a 19th century carriage drawn by three horses. The middle horse toes the line, galloping from point A to point B, on a mission to deliver—to lead, to clear the way. The two horses on either side, flanking the center horse, respond to the actual conditions of the road, its uneven terrain, pushing and pulling to avoid pits and stones—improvising within the given structure of a particular trajectory, a single journey. 

Of the forty drawings made during that period, I converted ten into prints and framed the first print of each edition. More details to come, but sneak peak, below are pics from my studio. This will be a no touch sale, no worries, available only through me online.

Looking forward … I can’t wait to see how much we can raise to reach voters and fight voter suppression.