I make things that fall apart because everything must.

I cut my artistic teeth as an assistant to a figurative sculptor. It was among those buckets of wet clay and discarded half-­finished figures that I fell in love with form and structure. There I learned that the human body is the greatest tool and teacher in artmaking.

I am a lifelong student and have never been able to settle on one particular medium; rather I teach myself techniques as appropriate for the desired result. Working with sculptors taught me woodworking, mouldmaking and casting; building my own studio taught me construction; performing in drag taught me sewing and costume design; documenting performance art taught me video editing and Photoshop; and on and on.

In my artistic practice process and especially experimentation is paramount. Having lived at nine addresses on two continents by the age of twelve, transience has always been part of the way I look at the world. I find that permanence, in art or otherwise, is largely a matter of perspective. Rather than stability, it is much more interesting to me to try to find and underscore a material’s breaking point as metaphor for the long collapse to which we are all subject.