|
Often the yesterday I remember is not rooted in the actual events of the past. I find myself infatuated with a memory of things that never were – good ol’ days gone by that I haven’t actually experienced. It often leads to longing, nostalgia, even regret. Struggling with the unrelenting edge of maturity and the awareness of the tumultuous world we live in, memory, even false memory, can serve as a true solace. It serves a reminder of light hearted childhood days, dreams, play. I reference the musings of childhood in my work through the use of fabrics, yarn and trinkets. All the lovely things waiting for my young fingers to manipulate in my mother’s sewing room as a young child, and that still comfort me as I work with them to this day. I then put them into a context that identifies them and then rips them out of their comfortability. Just as the real world has no room for child’s play, the forms of pleasure as a child now have the tainted harshness of adulthood: responsibility, death, cruelty, a loss of innocence. My work is not a commentary on the hidden misery of a childhood that never was, but a realization of a lost joy when one recognizes today will not wait while you long for yesterday.
 
 
|
|
