Back & Forth

I feel compelled to scan.

I do not have a direct story about my work. The creative freedom takes over me needing to style familiar florals into a new modern-day piece.

Since I was young, every single summer, I watched my mother create her oasis in the backyard. I never understood the connection she had knowing everything will die by fall. I was never able to keep a plant alive, and I still cannot do so. My forgetfulness takes their life away.

Ever since I was given my first dried flower, I got the same feeling my mother gets while building her backyard escape. Being able to construct and style florals my own way, and to be able to re-use it made me love the life form.

My ever-growing collection consists of exotic and everyday greenery. The start of my assembly was given from a fellow artist, and now it has flourished into my own dried garden. The process of the life cycle fascinates me. The feeling of watching the brightest light decay feels empowering. Controlling a life to be continuously used to create art, makes me feel in command of my work.

I cannot find an explanation on why I do not have a solid story to my work. I create out of emotions and sensations before thinking of a narrative. Whoever is observing my body of work should create their own story.