"Lost and Found II: what is lost, can be found" (Lithograph)
People often say that children are resilient, but I believe that they are simply great survivalists. When I was five, my mother disappeared from my life. I did not see or hear from her for another five years. My father was a harsh and bitter man who would often take his frustrations out on me. Being too young to understand or process this experience, I buried it deep within my subconscious so that I could no longer recall the pain or sorrow as I grew up.
Art has an uncanny ability to touch our inner souls and can often serve as a portal to the subconscious, as well as a conduit to emotional healing. In the summer of 2010, while traveling in Italy, I had a poignant encounter with the painting "Maternita" by Gino Rossi. As I reflected upon this intimate image of a mother cradling her child, I began to see how my fascination with spirals, such as those found in seashells and overlapping flower petals, in fact pointed to a deep-seated longing for my mother's embrace. Despite my concerted efforts to bury the heartache, bits and pieces of its existence had managed to seep through and take shape in my artistic expressions. Instead of continuing to dwell in denial, I knew that I needed to pursue to this new revelation and thus embarked on a journey to explore the theme of "Lost and Found".
Stone lithography and mezzotint have the capacity to create intense velvety blacks and subtle gradations of gray that are incomparable with any other medium. This effect is perfectly suited for portraying the aura of secrecy and obscurity that are central to the theme of "Lost and Found", especially in crafting that magical moment when an image gradually appears from out of the shadows or dissipates back into the gloom. Although these printmaking processes can be quite labor intensive and time consuming, I also find them to be highly meditative, allowing me the opportunity to reflect and connect with my subconscious and to ultimately find resolution with my fractured past.
People often say that children are resilient, but I believe that they are simply great survivalists. When I was five, my mother disappeared from my life. I did not see or hear from her for another five years. My father was a harsh and bitter man who would often take his frustrations out on me. Being too young to understand or process this experience, I buried it deep within my subconscious so that I could no longer recall the pain or sorrow as I grew up.
Art has an uncanny ability to touch our inner souls and can often serve as a portal to the subconscious, as well as a conduit to emotional healing. In the summer of 2010, while traveling in Italy, I had a poignant encounter with the painting "Maternita" by Gino Rossi. As I reflected upon this intimate image of a mother cradling her child, I began to see how my fascination with spirals, such as those found in seashells and overlapping flower petals, in fact pointed to a deep-seated longing for my mother's embrace. Despite my concerted efforts to bury the heartache, bits and pieces of its existence had managed to seep through and take shape in my artistic expressions. Instead of continuing to dwell in denial, I knew that I needed to pursue to this new revelation and thus embarked on a journey to explore the theme of "Lost and Found".
Stone lithography and mezzotint have the capacity to create intense velvety blacks and subtle gradations of gray that are incomparable with any other medium. This effect is perfectly suited for portraying the aura of secrecy and obscurity that are central to the theme of "Lost and Found", especially in crafting that magical moment when an image gradually appears from out of the shadows or dissipates back into the gloom. Although these printmaking processes can be quite labor intensive and time consuming, I also find them to be highly meditative, allowing me the opportunity to reflect and connect with my subconscious and to ultimately find resolution with my fractured past.