I think museums can be a little isolating, a little rigid and a little sterile. You’re usually held at (least) arms length from everything. The show, in its conception, obviously aimed to not use the space in this way.
With this piece I really wanted to play with all the types of decisions that go into making an image or sculpture – but instead of sorting them, condensing them and editing, just leave these possibilites floating in space. I wanted it to feel like those series of decisions manifested into some kind of gentle pulsating sea, where things are slowly changing and encroaching and retreating. Instead of being confronted with an edited thing you’re presented with the option to meander this shifting forest and forage for your own.
The room is a series of plywood and mixed media sculptures, encased in vinyl and painted silk bags. The bags inflate and deflate, going from colorful balloon to the suggestion of a draped item from storage and moving through a state of wobbly mochi.
The room breathes, just like we have to breathe. I am a very anxious person, I feel anxious about all sorts of things that couldn’t possibly justify this feeling. Apparently all anxiety stems from a fear of death – but mine, like so many peoples, is probably just from forgetting to breathe. A simple pressure in the chest from a lack of oxygen. If its nothing more this might just be a big room reminding me, reminding you, to take a deep breathe: that all these little decisions are just a sea of different possibilities.