whence the works

I spent my first birthday with my family, when we were living in Nigeria. I then learned how to walk, in my tiny sandals and outfit made for me by my mother, no doubt. We lived with the powerful sights and smells of African art, my father’s enduring passion. I am a collector born to a family of collectors.  rocks, shells, bones, beer cans, beer signs, menus, advertising ashtrays, matchbooks, and miniature bears by the age fifteen.  I have always slowly amassed sets and subsets of objects based on my evolving tastes and, importantly, my whereabouts. living in Kenya for six months during second grade I collected bones and teeth harvested from flattened & sun-dried roadkill, chiefly snakes. In California, I made elaborate tree houses for my miniature bears with abalone shells and rocks, fiberglassed homemade skimboards with my friend Sam, and once made an inadequately small hang glider of bamboo and plastic.  my mom taught me how to sew. my dad had a boat, with all the knots, water and weather that that implies, as well as lots of time swimming and fishing. My family allowed me to follow my desires, sometimes with bated breath no doubt. among the first photographs of myself is a sequence taken on my second birthday: I notice the candles, reach for them, then cry with the burn that ensued. that pretty much sums up my life, in all its joyous and painful aspects. 

As a sculptor and a cheapskate, I have always made do with what I found. my entire oeuvre is site-specific in that way, and reflects my location and circumstances and interests in time.