Portfolio > Current Work

When the skin is thick,but not thick enough
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Inside/Outside #1
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Inside/Outside #2
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Inside/Outside #3
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2022
It's all just a blur...
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Nothing to hide
Resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Red and blue pendant
Resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Multi red pendant
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
blue and white multilayer brooch
Resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021
Whirlpool pendant
resin, manipulated photo, nylon chord, silver
2021

I have always taken photographs as I work. And not just of the finished pieces, but of the parts. When I was working with nylon, I loved the unadorned pieces as they fell on a white sheet and made shadows. I filled my hands with them and let them drop randomly on the page. Some would cluster together, others drifted off to the side alone. I photographed these associations. They reminded me of dance. Of bodies coming together and apart.

And then gradually, as I began experimenting with new materials, I gravitated towards these photographs. They began to take on a life of their own. I played with them, like I had with the three-dimensional pieces, manipulating their color, and blurring the lines till the images became something else, something not quite identifiable. I was partially covering up their origin story, but not entirely so that my history was still there if you looked.


Later, when I moved into a new studio with my friend, a painter and photographer, I envied her canvasses. I can’t paint or draw. But I think instinctively I turned to these photographs as a way of making lines on a page. I began to cut the photographs and put them together again. It was a process of abstraction, first by the camera lens, computer manipulation, and then by cutting apart and reshaping. The images were farther now from where they began.

I began to pour resin on my photo collages. I thought about jewelry and the interplay between private and public. About wanting to reveal and wanting to hide. With each layer, something else was covered up. The result was a series of large, flat surfaces, like ancient armor. And I returned again and again to the color red. The pieces began to feel like bodies. Some were like X-rays under the skin, and some put up defensive walls, thick protectors. Red is a color that calls attention, it warns us that there is danger ahead. But it is also intimate, internal, private.