I was born in an old rickety yellow house on a honey bee and blueberry farm in Arkansas. I spent the sticky hot summers of my childhood pant legs rolled up wading through creeks chasing tad poles and crawdads. While studying architecture and art abroad, I had the same excitement and abandon wandering the streets of Florence and finding flower filled courtyards hidden behind enormous weathered wooden doors.
I once read that every time you remember something you are not actually recalling the event but instead you are remembering the memory. My recent works are an exploration of the way memory changes with each layer of recollection. Some things become clearer while others soften and blur. I continue to question and study the intimacy we attach to objects, spaces, and scenes... a feeling of home, and what that becomes as memory tints reality.
My subjects are reflections of daily life: the hue of winter berries, the curiosity of a broken building, a weathered bike with no rider. My work defines the qualities of spaces, both interior and exterior, that are often overlooked, but that form the intimacy we have with our environments. These works explore colors and spaces, both real and imagined, which influence memory: memories of September in Canova, forgotten bicycles in the yard, the sheen of a harvest apple. They are at first personal and private, but are only truly revealed in the individual histories brought to them.