my story is your story
Sometimes the hand remembers what the brain does not.
It recalls what the rest of the human has never known.
There are unknown cartographies in the fingertips, ones that map old memory.
-anonymous
Objects exist as visual language, representations of complex ideas before spoken language itself was even established. Ritual objects, spiritual objects, fetishes. Objects for remembrance, objects for hexing. Objects for containing the spirit after death, family heirlooms and objects for earthly remains. Good luck charms, protection and safe travel. Functional objects, objet d’art and artifact. Objects are tasked with carrying precious and sometimes fearful power. Our species has an affinity for tangibility, for acquisition. Our relationships to objects are so vast and complicated that very many of us are not consciously aware of them.
As a maker, I use the same tools and traditions that have been used in metalworking for thousands of years. I am following an ancient and deeply embedded tradition of object making. My hands, the intermediary between brain and tools, are the executors of intent which make the ideas a tangible reality. As an artist, my responsibility lies in truthfully reporting the world as seen through my eyes. The end result of my interpretation of the data I receive through my senses is what name we give to an object- art. As a creator, I am tapping into genetic memory, collective unconscious and archetypes imprinted in the human animal’s psyche- the wellspring from which we all draw. This skill is only honed by the act of creation itself, and by opening interior doors to allow it to enter. In creating, the attempt is being made to enter into a state of grace to receive creativity. By allowing myself to be open, if I am very lucky, I can channel this imperative and let my hands do the rest. The object thus made will be invested with power shaped through my unique focusing of the lens. A uniqueness we all have in common.
