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Description
Artist's Statement:

Secrets.

Painful, shameful, humiliating: these memories shape us more than we know.
They help define us in ways we hardly realize.

But what do we hide behind, how do we cope?
Addiction, depression, obsession, compulsion, anger… We all use something.

We hide the ugly behind thick walls.

I wanted desperately to be someone else. To erase the person I was; the one who wasn’t good enough.

But we cannot erase. We can only hide, only avoid, only numb.
Our secrets are still there. We have only to look through the cracks to know it’s true.

Note:
I've been putting off posting any of my thesis work online for a number of reasons but the main one is that looking at these pieces is an experience. There not just object. Inside each stack is an object that's been cast from a mold. Each object is something that represents an intensely personal experience/person/event in my life. They're my secrets. While the objects don't hold much meaning to others, they're loaded with meaning to me.

Unfortunately they're so well hidden I can't actually get a picture of them while they're inside the stacks But that's meant to be a part of the process of viewing these pieces. The act of looking.

At the show opening it became somewhat of a game to find the objects inside and figure out what they were. Everyone was getting extremely close to the boxes. (This I didn't like so much) But while this show was up (this was after the reception night) I would sit in the gallery and watch people looking at the art. Some people noticed the objects inside, but most didn't. <-- Found this super interesting.

Description
Artist's Statement:

Secrets.

Painful, shameful, humiliating: these memories shape us more than we know.
They help define us in ways we hardly realize.

But what do we hide behind, how do we cope?
Addiction, depression, obsession, compulsion, anger… We all use something.

We hide the ugly behind thick walls.

I wanted desperately to be someone else. To erase the person I was; the one who wasn’t good enough.

But we cannot erase. We can only hide, only avoid, only numb.
Our secrets are still there. We have only to look through the cracks to know it’s true.

Note:
I've been putting off posting any of my thesis work online for a number of reasons but the main one is that looking at these pieces is an experience. There not just object. Inside each stack is an object that's been cast from a mold. Each object is something that represents an intensely personal experience/person/event in my life. They're my secrets. While the objects don't hold much meaning to others, they're loaded with meaning to me.

Unfortunately they're so well hidden I can't actually get a picture of them while they're inside the stacks But that's meant to be a part of the process of viewing these pieces. The act of looking.

At the show opening it became somewhat of a game to find the objects inside and figure out what they were. Everyone was getting extremely close to the boxes. (This I didn't like so much) But while this show was up (this was after the reception night) I would sit in the gallery and watch people looking at the art. Some people noticed the objects inside, but most didn't. <-- Found this super interesting.