During the Renaissance, artists brought together different aspects of the globe to their encyclopedias, supplementing the known with the imagined, and changing the common into the beautified. The urge to collect and identify fulfills an impulse to unify, to recognize by detecting inherent patterns, and to answer the unknown in limiting variability. However, no plant can grow as perfectly as in an herbarium; no bird is as lovely and approachable as in a catalogue. We are aware that all collections for study are inevitably connected with the separation and disappearance of what is painstakingly catalogued. Art objects can, in this sense, become surrogates, hopefully transporting us to what is missing.
To look at the elements of my collages singularly is to find each is hand-crafted, every frame a complete work in miniature. They are grouped, similarly, to a collection of stones, shell species or plants that eventually feed – depending on the impetus – into a cluster which becomes the final work. This process engages a search for a lost sensibility: the physical versus abstract representation, the spiritual in relation to the terrestrial, and the longing, through classification, to understand our place in the heavens.