On connecting

+ Open studio hours

Ghosted 2 in copper and iridescent lapis paper, 16” x 16” x 1”

I’ve been thinking a lot about connections lately, considering how fucked the world—and especially the U.S.—feels at this particular moment. Between the ongoing climate disaster, the sense of helplessness in the face of advancing totalitarianism, and the marginalization of those existing outside the monoculture of America . . . everything feels pretty much terrible.

I keep hearing to focus on things you can control, and work locally. That helps, but I do spend the majority of my time alone in the studio making things. I think Art, in its best usage, can help connect people and make them feel less alone.

On that note, I want to share an email that broke me open last week from a collector. They wrote:

“I feel so honored to be able to have one of your pieces in my home. It will be a very sentimental piece in my journey as I saw your work for the first time hanging in the corridor of the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, FL. They were so beautiful that I was able to focus on that rather than the surgery I was about to have. They also reminded me how beautiful repetition can be and how important perspective is. They also encouraged me to allow light to change the way I viewed things and to appreciate the opportunity to do things the same way and in doing so, there is comfort and movement and stability. Thank you for all of that.”

I’ve been focusing on having my work in hospitals and clinics and truly believe this is the best place my work can and should exist. Private collectors keep the studio afloat but limit who gets to see things firsthand. Social media is cool, but seeing a 48” piece on a 2” scale while you scroll past is not the ideal experience. To have my work take someone, even momentarily, out of the current shit they are going through—and even perhaps out of themselves for a bit—is a win.

Ara 725, Close your eyes and open your hands in walnut, coffee, taupe, stone, and pitch 48” x 60” x 1” (Photo by Mike Schwatz)

Please forgive me in advance—I’m about to write about a very Lynchian (RIP) dream I had a few weeks ago.

In this dream I found myself walking backward through a maze to an old man who dropped this gem on me: “Life is about connection: Our connection to our past, our connection to the Earth, and our connection to each other. When we feel disconnected to those things, we lose our sense of being.”

I hardly ever remember my dreams, and this one, so incredibly straightforward, had me racing to write down exactly what that man said. So to honor that man and in an effort of connection, I’m going to host Open Studio Hours next week to connect with you. You can sign up for a fifteen minute time slot on Jan 31st here. Please feel free to ask me anything—but there are bonus points for connecting about anything not covered in my FAQ. Not required, but a donation to a charity such as the Crohns and Colitis Foundation, SPLC or a local food bank is suggested. Ask me about studio practice, living with Crohn’s disease, or what the hell is going on in Severance. I have theories.

Apophenia in Walnut 40” x 72” x 2”

xo
m