Suspensions

Stainless-steel cable stretched within an enamel-coated wooden frame creates a symmetrical lattice. Though separated by several inches of space from a set of disjointed paintings behind it, the lattice matches perfectly with a web of lines masked within them. Due to this separation, there is no vantage point from which a viewer can simultaneously experience every point of alignment.

I’m always finding new connections within my work beyond my original intentions. One such connection is the use of stainless steel cable. I like it for its strength and permanence, but also for its fluidity and malleability. When I first started experimenting with visual art, I was under the impression that great artists left nothing to chance—that the reason their work was great was, precisely, because they were certain of their beliefs and completely confident in their ability to execute their ideas. This series was one of the first stages of my journey to unlearn this.

I was raised in a Christian home, but, in my early twenties, I began questioning my faith. I deeply love my family and friends, many of whom are Christians; and the strain that this introduced into my relationships is, to this day, painful. Consequently, I have often wrestled with a desire for absolute certainty. I believe this is what drove me to create Suspensions.

Several years and enumerable rabbit holes later, I have finally come to a place where I am not only comfortable with but exhilarated by the unknown. This has become a thread of steel which runs through my practice—a belief that there are more connections to discover than I could possibly take credit for. Learning to accept this has allowed me to treat my practice as an exploration rather than an exposition, making it possible for me to connect more deeply with those who respond to my work.

With these thoughts in mind, find what you can in this work. It paints an imagined story of life and death—a landscape of peril and peace. There are golden ratios, theories of everything, harmonic connections between light, color, and sound; but the only thing truly certain is the experience you are having right now. As you experience this, I ask you to suspend judgement, if only for a moment, and simply appreciate it. Whatever it is, it’s real.