Lease
I am compelled by the indexical nature of clay—its ability to register experience, not unlike a photograph and often take impressions of my surroundings as physical evidence of my existence. This current ongoing body of work involves taking impressions of places I have lived and reconfiguring them into a constantly evolving idea of home.
I eventually employed a tile cutter, first for the modular format which allowed for potential reconfiguration. I then came to appreciate the grid format as a quiet revolt against another ubiquitous form of documenting on social media. This is where the act of pressing clay on to things becomes an act of defiance—in the noticing and in the physical reaching out and touching in a time of increasing distraction, isolation and disconnect.
This year, shortly after so many people around us lost their homes to wildfires, my partner and I were evicted from our home that we had so cherished for the past three years. In the midst of panic and grief I began documenting the house I loved that was not mine, not just as a way to remember it but as a way to be completely present in a space for the last time—an opportunity unafforded to so many. The resulting tiles remain unfired and modular—earth held tenuously together with potential for yet infinite rebuilding.
