The Crimson Elegy

In the first year that I ceased to bleed, I became captivated by the color red in all of its hues.

My thoughts and feelings seemed to be momentarily drawn into a vermillion wave; I began to make images steeped in the essence of this colour and I found in the making of them a sense of restoration, a visual language that articulated an inner process marked by a descent into grief, a lament of sorts and a rising into a new way of experiencing myself.

With flowers always on hand, I delved into each petal as if it were a protective shroud. I explored in the twilight hours, there is something beautifully evocative about making images in the quiet of the night. Playful, a communion of sorts with the unknown as I symbiotically explored the days' delicate flowers and my own vulnerability.

At this phase in my life, I was very much on my knees, attempting to embrace the entirety of life's spectrum and my place in it. The images I felt compelled to create were images that asked me to slow down so that I could be with the weight of my own emotions and process, and allow the images to reflect some of that.

What begins as a personal journey of inquiry of course can transcend into the universal and I became increasingly aware of a pulse within this body of work that felt to resonate with our current times.