There is a principal juxtaposition in your work between the decayed landscapes and the innocent children who navigate through them. Why did you choose such iconography to express yourself?
I like thinking about our world in different stages. Seeing how the things we make crumble and decay. Seeing nature take over when it’s allowed to, but even nature is cyclical. A forest burns down, but it grows back stronger, it’s just a matter of time.
My settings always have an end of the world look to them. I don’t really believe in an apocalypse type situation, but it is a different world than what we are living in currently. A new phase I would say. Things are crumbling, but it’s not a reason for fear. It’s a new beginning, a clean slate.
What role do the wild animals play in this uneasy entente between the dystopian surroundings and the children’s hopeful determination? What is the significance of their subdued-cum-tamed condition? Is the rejection of their predatory nature symbolic of the possibility of change?
Sometimes the animals are the kids’ guardians, sometimes they are a representation of their inner strength, sometimes they are just companions. Sometimes they are all of those things. I feel like I have a different narrative in my head for each piece. The subdued nature along with the crowns I sometimes put on them, symbolize a hopeful change in our current priorities as a culture. Honouring our children and our environment. I don’t understand why we choose to neglect either one considering how important they are to the future.
What are your working on right now? What plans do you have for the future?
I will be back at my Gallery in Los Angeles, Thinkspace, for a solo show in the spring of 2019.