Statement

My father was a body-and-fender man and in the morning there'd be this crumpled, seeminly unrepairable car, and I'd come home and it would be ready to drive and candy apple red. I grew up with objects being changed in a short period of time. I like the feeling of being able to touch an object—smelling the turpentine or graphite, smelling my father's lacquer paint in the garage at sunset. I grew up loving that; I grew up wanting to be in his garage. His objects were used as vehicles, modes of transportation. And mine are used as the same thing, a mode of transportation, a springboard for the imagination, a place for the mind to go someplace else that's not always real.

Creating a physical object in this world seems so archaic; it disturbs me but at the same time I enjoy doing it—crafting another object in a world so filled with them.

I love being lied to. Give me a fantastical lie, something strange and not too serious. The Garden Dervish told me a story; Ophelia never did die. She became a queen who could breathe underwater. She met Don Quixote, loved him, bit off his moustache and flew off to Italy. She continues her journey and transcends the myth.

Series