Being in nature makes me feel small and insignificant. In nature, I confront my mortality in the face of the relative persistence of the natural world. In collecting and cataloging the stones used in my current series, “Permanence” I engage with the aura of timelessness embodied by these objects, as well as the truth that they are, in fact, quite like us: we all transition over time. When I inspect a rock, I can project myself onto it, and envision the stories that these rocks could possibly tell.
There is a rhythm in the picking: bending down, standing up, the crunch of the rocks beneath my shoes, and the crashing of the waves. There is a rhythm too in the studio, as I clean, sort and catalog my findings from the beach. Within each piece in “Permanence” is the grief that accompanied my personal experiences of the pandemic, tempered and soothed by the meditative, laborious process of engaging with my chosen material. In these works, each individual stone carries as much meaning as the collective patterns they are situated within. The repetition is my ritual, merging the physicality of the world with my inner processes.