The disappearance of my foster son felt like a brutal fall from which I could never recover…
This tryptic of ‘Panels’ explode into geometric three dimensions. An initial impact of superficial colourful precedes an expression of chaos. Trauma unfolds through a confused labyrinth to a place of quieter acceptance (if not tranquility - edges are still unfinished/in progress). Movement is unpredictable yet sensical, tensions are painted-over/repaired — visible are screws, pins, staples, nails, frayed plastic and splintered wood consequently scars are forever present.
Lines, planes and materials of transitional sculpture foreshadow and call-back to the three main panel images. Dependent on the viewers placement within or outside the structure, these transitions appear in an infinite combination of pattern, complement and impact; again a reflection upon continual, internal disturbance.
As well as an examination of personal loss, ‘The Fall…’ stands as a metaphorical trope for cyclical patterns of society declining, collapsing and then renewal or restoration: A hopeful resolution as we adapt around our sufferings, continue and potentially thrive.
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