The Point
2017
Vitreous glass tile, enamel glass tile, smalti, Massachusetts Goshen stone schist, traprock gravel, slate, unglazed ceramic tile, marble, recycled glassware, mirror, transparent and opaque stringers, and wood, on a purpose built substrate
37.5" x 23"x 8"
2017
Vitreous glass tile, enamel glass tile, smalti, Massachusetts Goshen stone schist, traprock gravel, slate, unglazed ceramic tile, marble, recycled glassware, mirror, transparent and opaque stringers, and wood, on a purpose built substrate
37.5" x 23"x 8"
I read, and I considered: “This type of problem always narrows to an unavoidable point.*”
I wondered about the narrowing. About the inevitability. About derailing the process, avoiding the point. About unexpected breakdown, a breaking point, a broken point. About focus and the flow of a complex system suddenly twisting away and missing the point. About life’s problems and politics. About hitting the wall and crumpling the point instead of reaching resolution. Fascinating.
My sculptures are serious, but include whimsy and/or irony. The ideas come from anywhere; who knows how or why. The challenge and the work is to bring the idea into solid reality outside of my head, and to keep going. Materials—rich glass or marble, poor gravel or ceramic—must serve the idea, but are free to show off their own beauty, contrast, and surprises. Their movement and turbulence may result in a tense calm, but they can still end in either order or disorder, as does life. Flow is an organizing principle, as is light.
I travel and garden, and have designed posters, art catalogs, small furniture, and a house. I’m a careful observer and part of a family and community. Wholeness evolves: Piece-by-piece. Whole journeys, landscapes, lives, art. I join one piece to the next and create something new, different, meditative, and whole. What is impossible to predict is how it ends up. Which is the point.
*Jia Tolentino, The New Yorker, 10/30/17
I wondered about the narrowing. About the inevitability. About derailing the process, avoiding the point. About unexpected breakdown, a breaking point, a broken point. About focus and the flow of a complex system suddenly twisting away and missing the point. About life’s problems and politics. About hitting the wall and crumpling the point instead of reaching resolution. Fascinating.
My sculptures are serious, but include whimsy and/or irony. The ideas come from anywhere; who knows how or why. The challenge and the work is to bring the idea into solid reality outside of my head, and to keep going. Materials—rich glass or marble, poor gravel or ceramic—must serve the idea, but are free to show off their own beauty, contrast, and surprises. Their movement and turbulence may result in a tense calm, but they can still end in either order or disorder, as does life. Flow is an organizing principle, as is light.
I travel and garden, and have designed posters, art catalogs, small furniture, and a house. I’m a careful observer and part of a family and community. Wholeness evolves: Piece-by-piece. Whole journeys, landscapes, lives, art. I join one piece to the next and create something new, different, meditative, and whole. What is impossible to predict is how it ends up. Which is the point.
*Jia Tolentino, The New Yorker, 10/30/17
The Point
