The notion of a controlled burn contains a dramatic contradiction, an absurdity, near impossibility. Fire is destructive and regenerative, yet, with planning and creativity, we can try to chart its path. Flames can stand for the warmth of desire, the intensity of relationships, biblical or apocalyptic reckonings, all-consuming feelings. Through my range of material and approaches, I’m playing with charged environments, questioning the stories we craft for ourselves, and tangling with wavering recollection. These glimpses of memories amplify the things I absorb and replay: childhood anecdotes, odd turns of phrase, mental replays of vivid moments between myself and loved ones. I’m interested in fragmented modes of storytelling, in dancing between metaphor and experience, clarity and obfuscation.  

Printmaking touches nearly everything in this show in some way. I return to stacks of found and printed-on material, to fragments of poetry or passing conversations I’ve recorded, to feelings of closeness, disconnect, lostness, and light. I return to the heat and sun of my backyard, my family pinning up stained socks, endless towels, and small underwear to the lines stretching between rusted poles. I return to the stories we tell each other, the stories we tell ourselves—opportunities for us to become intertwined, if just for a brief, burning moment.