This year I thought about artmaking as a means of record-keeping: of self-material encounters, of the passage of time, of evidence that I "made do" - there was a strong effort to bring nothing “new” into the studio, only borrowing, trading for, or scavenging materials. I wanted my studio practice to be as honest, absurd, and scrappy as life is. I present my impulses. I present the surface of the past 229 days, heavy with love, lightened by strangeness.
