A frequent theme in my work is fragility and changeability,
juxtaposed with the weight and presence of another material. A feeling of weightlessness, hovering above,
despite the resistance of stone, metal, glass. Finding the dialogue between lines, rhythms
in the work and in the space around it.
Throughout the ages, humans have needed to collect and contain water in vessels, containers.
even as water easily slips through the smallest opening.
What is the container without its content? And what is the language of the container’s shape?
My thoughts evolve into a play on words, involving all the implications of sustainability.
The sturdy vessel to hold the water, the reliable access to water
to fill it, the predictable movement of fluids within the vessel.
The word vessel also refers to the channels leading fluids within our bodies.
What approaches can we take to keep the vessels within and outside the body, their walls and paths,
in good working order?
What do I need to hold onto in order to feel safe – is it the same thing for you?
Leakage… Perhaps it needs to leak a bit for everything to flow as it should?