FINDING FIRE'S FORM
I grieve the losses, those that have already occurred and those still to come, resulting from humankind's impact on the environment. In my work, I practice a form of activist melancholia. Mine is an anti-conciliatory mourning, intended less to heal and more to spur action; to build empathy for non-human bodies and discourage complacency in the face of such tragedies.
The work in Finding Fire's Form developed from a residency that took place at PLAYA in 2024, which is located at the edge of Summerlake, OR, just below the Fremont-Winema National Forest. In 2021, the Bootleg Fire consumed 413,765 acres in one of Oregon's worst forest fires since 1900. Visiting the location of the fire was a visceral experience, made even more so by darkened skies contaminated with smoke of yet another historic fire burning in Northern California that summer. In response to the devastation I embroidered tender portraits of dead pine trees frozen in agonal distress. I used alternative photographic processes to document the stumps left behind in areas where the fire burned so hot that the soil appeared sterile. I made grave rubbings of trees using charcoal from their own burned bodies to create marks. These efforts force me to look, and not turn away from, the impact of a loss that will not be restored in my lifetime.
The work in Finding Fire's Form developed from a residency that took place at PLAYA in 2024, which is located at the edge of Summerlake, OR, just below the Fremont-Winema National Forest. In 2021, the Bootleg Fire consumed 413,765 acres in one of Oregon's worst forest fires since 1900. Visiting the location of the fire was a visceral experience, made even more so by darkened skies contaminated with smoke of yet another historic fire burning in Northern California that summer. In response to the devastation I embroidered tender portraits of dead pine trees frozen in agonal distress. I used alternative photographic processes to document the stumps left behind in areas where the fire burned so hot that the soil appeared sterile. I made grave rubbings of trees using charcoal from their own burned bodies to create marks. These efforts force me to look, and not turn away from, the impact of a loss that will not be restored in my lifetime.
