In a time in history when fresh water is becoming scant, where landfills are infringing upon residential neighborhoods and natural habitats alike, while recycling remains still too costly to be truly effective, how can we remain an economically thriving culture based on production and consumption? Society urges us to produce and consume in order to survive in highly competitive yet uncertain economic markets — but how can we continually dispose of items and thrive in a world quickly becoming plagued with insurmountable piles of waste?
This question has lead me to gather my materials from local trash piles. These pieces are 99% recycled, from the surfaces to the paints. Never having to go too far out of the way to find things I could use to tell the story of how we ended up in this mess. The Gulf Coast after Katrina has been the prime example of the environmental demise we have created. Everywhere we look there is a trash hep waiting to become a small piece of landfill of Post-Katrina waste.
The aesthetic has been shaped by the materials I gathered. The subject matter reflects the story, locally and globally, of how for the last century we have been culturally deluded into believing that making giant piles of trash is a normal part of life. In nature, nothing is wasted. In only a few decades we have stepped so far outside of this natural cycle that we can’t even recall how to live any other way. Convenience is not so conveninent anymore.
My connection to environmental themes runs deeper than just recent urgency—it began back in high school in Miami, Florida. That’s when I first read Ishmael by Daniel Quinn, thanks to Mr. Gilham (our visionary biology teacher at D.A.S.H. who also founded the school’s environmental club) who read the book aloud in class. This sparked my lifelong environmental awareness. A lot of this work involves recycling discarded materials and utilising found objects.
After living first-hand through the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew in Miami and Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, this type of work became more and more important for me in order to come to terms with the constant devastation.
In 2007, with the help of my artist friend, Luis Colmenares, I learned to weld in order to recycle some discarded mannequin parts I´d found. I created this mermaid water fountain, pictured below, which lives in the backyard of my yoga teacher´s studio, her hollow back serving as a nesting site for neighbourhood birds.
This on-going series of works is very experimental, material-based and explorative. It allows me the freedom to critique current events and vent my frustration on the lack of care humans place on our great mother, Gaia.
