2012, Tin, Sizes vary
I shy from materials and techniques that comfort me. Baseless, unable to rely on the indoctrinated structures of a familiar process, I listen to the flowing insubstantial. I spread it fully, layer it, hold it to the light, and then: I cut it. Before my hands knew metal I learned to braid with sun filtering through the window and the ravens taunting my clumsy hands. They have changed. Now well-trained and boring easily, they best respond to punishment. I silenced them and now clear rooms so they might speak. What will come out—a whisper or a rattle? Hunched over in anticipation, I realize: I was born from the plasticity of metal. In silence I work out simple tasks dutifully, listening. The products coalesce upon my bench; I must bring them to life.
A Daimler Company
