Only using a visual image as a simplification of a concept when language is insufficient often falls short of my expectations. This is rooted in my childhood experiences living abroad. I grew up in a military family, the brat lifestyle was nomadic. The chaos of change was omnipresent. It’s accompaniment was often loss of friends, possessions and sense of belonging. Starting over every few years was normal. The wanderlust of these years would stick with me until I settled in New York City. During my early education we were relocated to Germany. The signage was in a foreign tongue. It was disorienting but had vibrations of the familiar. The letters were the same 26 I learned a few years earlier but their arrangement wasn’t decipherable. Often the exception came from advertising. I knew what advertising was selling me while being unable to ask for directions.

The energy of my compositions radiates from outside to inside in these still lifes. It is my direct translation of NYC during the pandemic. The outside world was threatening our lives. Everywhere I looked I saw the grave consequences associated with the coronavirus. Some evenings the world rang out flashing sirens. Bike rides around the city were eerily vacant. Any people we saw were avoided by a large berth. In the evenings we clapped our hands outside of open windows in appreciation of healthcare workers. Secretly we were letting the world know that we are still alive.