Vital Mundane

My current embodiment is of a multidisciplinary artist who uses a variety of mediums to convey the theme and energy of millions (if not billions) of many given moments. My practice involves absorbing the present and translating it. Picking up fragments in spaces between lines on paper, gathering missing or unspoken prattle in a conversation; the subconscious, inappropriate, whimsical, sexual, violent, loving, emotional, etc., and then questioning those missing spaces;
What is nourishment? What consumes me? What do I consume?
What consumes the world? How can I live each moment artfully?
What is the difference between living artfully and living ordinarily?
Is it possible for creative people to fully and honestly articulate thoughts?
How might our social circles change if we were to say everything?
How does language change or define our social circles? How does art change or define our social circles?

As Allen Kaprow who founded the art/life movement, I explore the ritualistic or even mundane elements in life (consumption of food, consumption of oneself, philosophies and practice of love, weather, mathematics in politics, organic mystery, phenomenology, anatomies of living and non-living creatures, emotional and spatial maps, languages spoken and unspoken, and both “outer” and “inner” space) by implementing absurdity into everyday rituals. This type of practice stems from a deep anthropological curiosity of the myriad of ways in which people interact with each other and the world.

Most, if not all of my ideas come from a combination of mishaps, flaws, absurdity, and everyday tomfoolery. To quote myself: "It starts with a single word or a combination of words, a quavering, confident, inarticulate, demonic, humorous, forlorn voice, something someone said about the weather, a blurred image seen only through peripheries, an intoxicating smell or flavor, a multilayered dream, a smattering of emotions, a wobbly line. From there it’s a wrestling match versus thought, question, beauty and desire. I am the winner. Erase the evidence. No I am the winner. Delete the lies".

Each concept begins with a pen and paper. A pen and paper can transport me anywhere. I can jot down the scene I just witnessed on the subway or in a forest unobtrusively without being noticed even by myself. The editor in me rests, while creative space becomes a vast playing field without rules or boundaries. Simplistic text, words, phrases and perhaps a quick sketch of an idea move me to the next chapter of any body of work. When the pen hits the paper, the idea slowly creeps its way out of my brain and into practice. It is here I allow my space to wander, to peter, to absorb the strangeness of each moment, and transmute strangeness into another language I call art.

I use media (photography and video, writing, illustration, painting, sculpture, installation, music, and dance) depending on the concept I am working with at the time. The groundwork of each of my projects involves relational performance and interactive research amongst strangers, friends, and family, therefore choosing a medium to document those interactions inexorably stems from my relationship with audience, and whether or not the documentation I have chosen will be nourishing and honest to those interactions.

Most of the "products" I have made over the last few years are electronic  and printed books involving text, photography, illustration, and graphic design. Integrating fragments/spaces from my relational performative work into book form allows my audience to absorb the story/concept as little or as much as they choose. It is vital for me to communicate my work in an accessible manner; books are a tactile, transportable, and welcoming method of sharing a story. Books as gateways can be opened and closed at the readers’ discretion on a very intimate level.

Much of my process comes from being lucky, honest, and present. If I am present, aware, and open to process, my work becomes transcendental. The “product” or documentation of my process is the last and final chapter in storytelling. A product is the summation of a whole; it is evidence revealing a fully lived concept, and material of immateriality. Product is proof, and although proof is necessary, perhaps even intriguingly beautiful to piece together, and rewarding to see in the tactile world, it’s a more minor aspect of my work.

My relationship with art is a curiosity with myself and the world around me. It is a union I continue to build, nourish, and learn from. If one project doesn’t work, I know it’s not the project, rather it is the way in which I am living my life that I need to rethink. It is when I take care of myself and listen deeply to the inner voices bodily, mindfully and universally, I know that my work is going well. It’s a linguistically inexplicable sensation that feels as though I am channeling a numinous outside element where it seems, I transcend life (or life as I know it) I am picking up fragments of life that don’t quite make sense, and rearranging them into another version of a story I may have already told or have never told before.