I revel in compulsive completeness - collecting, hoarding and fossicking with impeccable arranging and displaying… adapting my addiction with bricolage and excessive embellishment.
The consumer is key, theatrics embrace the pieces on display, drawing you in with sickening mischief, putrid desire and mysterious fragrances. Materials seem familiar, fabrics are tactile, patterns emerge. The element of play is achingly apparent.
“I use my work to help me understand the kind of person I am… to help me make sense of the world, the reasons why I do what I do and why I do them. I am not sure that I’m getting very far…”
It exists somewhere in the oscillations between visual poetry and formalist fetish.