Existence and its Parallel
Loma, Co
my figure woven with tumbleweeds and coated in clay was set ablaze
Editioned Inkjet Photographs by Singer Editions
2017
Loma, Co
my figure woven with tumbleweeds and coated in clay was set ablaze
Editioned Inkjet Photographs by Singer Editions
2017
An inside look into Loma and the work: Existence and its Parallel
While adventuring in Loma, Colorado I began gathering tumbleweeds obstructed by human barriers. Amassing a sizable collection rather quickly, I set for the studio to work. Immediately I wove one tumbleweed into another, then into another. The ancient art of weaving moved within me as thoughts unravelled of identity and unity. Constructing the human form unearthed deep explorations within and the internal human makeup. Arteries, muscular and the skeletal systems made up a form equal to my size that I then encased in clay. The meshwork of many had become one.
The next day, out in an open field I watched it go up in flames during an agricultural field burn. With the earth still simmering, ashes of my body were left upon the earth. This visceral and primitive-like impression resonated deeply within us and shortly after we discovered a fragment that had survived and lay glowing on the charred earth.
Tumbleweeds themselves have always fascinated me. The root system of a tumbleweed detaches, releasing its above ground shell, now dried and hollow from lack of water and nutrients, to roll across the landscape dropping seeds. This rolling grace places me in a trance, as I watch the dead carry life. Who has passed upon my landscape, dropping memories to help me grow? By remaining open to failure and developing new methods of chance, I find discoveries are not only impressionable but within them are symbols to illustrate hope into a future unknown.
The next day, out in an open field I watched it go up in flames during an agricultural field burn. With the earth still simmering, ashes of my body were left upon the earth. This visceral and primitive-like impression resonated deeply within us and shortly after we discovered a fragment that had survived and lay glowing on the charred earth.
Tumbleweeds themselves have always fascinated me. The root system of a tumbleweed detaches, releasing its above ground shell, now dried and hollow from lack of water and nutrients, to roll across the landscape dropping seeds. This rolling grace places me in a trance, as I watch the dead carry life. Who has passed upon my landscape, dropping memories to help me grow? By remaining open to failure and developing new methods of chance, I find discoveries are not only impressionable but within them are symbols to illustrate hope into a future unknown.