At the beginning of 2019, just as my "TRIBE CALLED CATS" project came to an end, my sister and I lost our dearest Mother abruptly to cancer. The rest of 2019 is only a blur to me now, consisting of overwhelming grief all while working 13-hour graveyard shifts as a technician. At the very beginning of 2020, I began making a few molds (8 layers of silicon, followed by a rigid mother-mold) of some of my favorite pieces I had sculpted throughout the years. The process was humbling and tedious, but it was the first time in months that I felt anything other than the bottom. I began to feel normal. Music made me happy again and sounded like it had, and so I began utilizing every available time slot to get better and more precise with the mold making. At the beginning of March 2020: I began gathering "things to make things with", as I deemed these as the true essentials if things began to spiral out of control. Hundreds of pounds of mold making materials followed by hundreds of pounds of casting materials.
1999 - 2007 Wood Sculpture
I began my art career as physical therapy after surviving a house fire caused by a natural gas explosion. The fire occurred at a rental garage apartment near U of H where I was attending school. It was at night, and I assume I was asleep. I have little recollection neither of the accident nor of my hospital stay. I will refrain from the gory details of my hospital stay, as I rarely speak of this experience anymore. The experience changed me profoundly. I could not have made it through without the love and support from my family and friends. Most of my burns were to my arms, neck and back, with the worst of the damage to both arms. My grafts took well, but muscle, tendons and veins had been severely damaged in the flash of the explosion, thus making therapy a grueling, torturous and constant event. After 3 months my left arm and hand had definite improvement however, from the wrist down on my right hand I had little movement at all. Surgeons warned that if there was no immediate progress in the movement of the wrist, fingers, and knuckles that permanent loss was inevitable. This is when I was ordered to find a hobby which I could spend all day doing.
Soon after creating my first couple of carvings, I found myself completely obsessed and, more importantly, happy. The rush of creating and the concept of endless possibilities motivated me beyond words. Needless to say, I made a tremendous recovery and found true happiness in the same stride.