Pandemic NYC

Portals; Blemishes; Containers; these small projects were made immediately before and during the first few months of the pandemic.

A modern “blemish” is a negative, determined as such by our response to them. We cover up in shame or dig out in sheer frustration. Distractions, eyesores, subjects of their own making that assert themselves at our detriment. Gadflies in the face of our subjective experience.
I hope to perceive these moments differently. I catch myself in familiar dismissals and reprimands and wish instead to occupy this time more fully, to see these beckoning sources less for what I believe them to be and more for their mystery. They may be lights from a narrow window, sure, but lights nonetheless that are contingent. Subjects that require nothing from us but fair trust and equal study. 

Study for what? A future that, while limited by means, can be hinted at with maquettes. Miniatures derived from floating encounters and tactile dreams, suspended in perpetuity. They linger with us like evidence and, more importantly, point to work yet left to be done.