Partly due to my experience with science, and partly due to unusual life circumstances, I am inspired by the intersection of dualities: the unity of opposites and the ways in which they can be integrated or interchanged. This conundrum propels my work and informs my approach to materials and equipment. Whether it involves randomly spilled ink, a homemade pinhole camera, or a double-walled ceramic vessel, my process usually begins with simple materials and some unlikely combination of chance and exactitude.
Although my professional involvement in science was temporary, it caused a personal transformation that continues to manifest itself in my artwork. During my pursuit of chemistry, moments and events gradually acquired names, and the world turned into a language of formulas. But once something could be named, ostensibly explained and broken down, it no longer contained its sublime, powerful anonymity. As a result, and despite my continued love of chemistry, I experienced anguish and a desire to explore the enigmas of life in ways that were not quantifiable.
Instead of serving as a means of self-expression or communication, art began to fulfill the same role chemistry briefly did: it became an avenue of inquisition and discovery. Unlike chemistry however, art’s primary goal seems to lie in revealing questions rather than seeking answers. Prescribed methods and firm ideologies have become meaningless to me; questioning or just experiencing is now more valuable.