Sight unto itself is unique. When perfect vision becomes impaired and dissolves into blurred structures and undefined edges, how does it affect established cognition of objects, home, and place?
Do the blurred contours of life meld and wash over time-worn memories of objects and station? Freshly opened and squinting eyes reveal a world is taking shape as loosely defined structures. These inflections of color and light inform our lives, giving us meaning, distraction, joy, and pain. Collectively our visual boundaries build over time to allocate language, love, and kindness. These are the questions that inform my work which is inspired by my father’s loss of eyesight two years before his death.
While caring for my father, I’d ask him to describe in detail what he saw, measuring if his sight was better or worse depending on the day. He would describe shapes and colors of objects and landscapes. Our discussions informed my imagination, and I began recreating these visual memories.
This body of work investigates the separate, shared and unique connection degraded eyesight has to memory, color contours and light and how collectively they comprise a vocabulary of personal reality and history.
These large-scale abstract photographic images on dye-infused aluminum panels are informed directly from the untamed complexity and beauty of life. The resilience of human nature is a constant source of inspiration. I use colors that reference light and energy, creating a visual expression of distorted reality.
A modified lens distorts the shape and color of the objects I photograph, pushing a formal object into a range of emotions and colors. The simplified abstract forms break down visual barriers and allow a wider audience to appreciate the meditative act of viewing.
Each image is an organized impression of memories and sensations—a colorful daydream displayed for the community to experience.