Slow & Steady Wins the Race

I’ve loved creating for as long as I can remember .I love it enough that I spent thousands of dollars to get a degree in art to be able to do what I love for a living. While in college, fulfilling course requirements and creating pieces for my portfolio had priority. Before that, maintaining academic performance was my priority. And before that still, creating art was something I did to recharge and find joy. I have had a long, complicated journey to get to where I am now, however.

One of the biggest influences on how I work is that I am a disabled artist. I was in a car accident in 2014, which resulted in 3 surgeries on my dominant hand. My sculptures are not made from heavy materials; paper in particular has been my go-to medium. I must be able to carry and manipulate what I'm working with, not to mention the final product.

My injury also affects my workflow. It does little good to have a completed sculpture in 2 days, but then be unable to use my hands for a week afterwards. Eating, opening doors, getting dressed, cooking food, and basic cleaning tasks can be a challenge if I don't plan ahead. Living with my fiancé has helped significantly, but it is not realistic for me to assume my partner can spend all their time taking care of me. My hands physically cannot keep up with the demands that the current industry expects on a regular basis, either. Because of this, I've moved towards building a clientele for my freelance business. Now, I'm able to do things my way and at my own pace.

After several hand surgeries, my four year undergraduate degree took me seven years to complete. I have come to accept that my life is by no means the standard for most artists and found my own path as best I can. Managing my time between a full-time job in design and making art that fulfills me is my priority, but it would not be possible without living with my fiancé. The support of having a partner along the way makes living in Seattle feasible. If I didn’t have help with daily living, I would not have the energy and time to create. All the while, I have investigated how to incorporate more sustainable practices into my creative process.

I have held onto paper junk mail since I moved to Seattle. I wanted to find a way to recycle it that was more immediately useful than throwing it in the recycling bin. While in college, I researched extensively to find places to donate all the waste-paper from classwork, notebooks and drawings, not to mention bills, documents, coupons, magazine advertisements and more. During lockdown, I found a method to create new paper from old printed items easily at home, and a lightbulb went off. I could make sculptures with my own paper! While I have made sculptures from paper before, it all started to coalesce: I can make work that brings me joy by using materials I make myself.

To explain the process of building sculptures like these: I combine wire, foil, recycled cardboard, and painted cut paper into a delicate sculpture. The idea to incorporate found objects sprung from an assignment's requirements. For that project, I combined pebbles and stones I found from outside to create a physical representation of Aesop's Fable, “The Crow and the Pitcher.” I've enjoyed these tales since I was a child, so it seemed like a perfect fit. Merging the story, a moment of visual interest, and the found objects, I created the sculpture with the final portions being the most elaborate. After painting the paper, I used scissors to create the appearance of feathers. I then layered the paper to give a sense of volume and dimension to the piece. While the first sculpture is modeled after a crow, I have plans to create a variety of creatures & concepts.

Although it takes more time, the process of starting projects by creating my own paper brings me joy, so I continue to create. I want to make art that I can engage with. I learned through the accident and creating while in pain that you have to do things how only you can do them. These sculptures are emblematic of my process and of myself. Meticulously planning the piece, ensuring the materials are less impactful on the environment, telling a story or conveying a message; these are all crucial parts of my craft. It's hard to put in words, but the joy I feel looking at something I've built from scratch is immeasurable. For this reason, I create.