Text is my image; handwriting is my process.
The series, The Midnight Disease, is created by writing, "I love you" to the point of absurdity. Overwhelming repetition gives form to persistent desire. At my drawing table, I methodically cover pages with miniature writing for up to 16 hours at a time. Here, the lines of text build to visually depict graphic landscapes and topographical maps.
Repetitive exposure to a phrase, event, or emotion, desensitizes us. This series began as a task: repeat "I-l-o-v-e-y-o-u" to reach emotional neutrality. I fill the pages of a pocketsize book while I am in transit. With each page the text reduces in size, concealing secrets and conditioning emotions. Like a blackboard punishment, the piece is both a confession and a promise. The latest piece is a seven-foot mural, entitled Erosion. Although the dimensions of the book and the mural differ, both have the same ratio and miniscule text. Viewing the works from a distance one appreciate the pieces as scenic drawings. It is only with an intimate viewing that the gestures read as the single poignant phrase, "I love you."
Writing the Making is an installation of two room size scrolls covered in handwritten text. Over the course of 8 weeks I spent 12 to 16 hours a day attempting to record my stream of conscious thought. Viewing the piece one is unable to process the magnitude of information and sees the piece as a series of lines and gestures. Taking time to digest the layers the viewer is reads dramatic eavesdropped conversations and excerpts of my internal personal narrative.
Unsent Letters is a collection of my own letters and those donated by the public. Rewritten as miniatures they are diminished both by time and space. As the physical object gets smaller, the labor and concentration involved in the reproduction multiplies, as does the letter's significance. By rewriting the letters, I am giving them the attention they never received. What was once hidden from the intended recipient will demand focus in the gallery.