ICE
IF YOU WERE TO stare at a patch of melting lake ice or a glacier for days at a time, you'd witness a slow motion parade of shapes and colors passing almost unnoticeably, never to rematerialize in the same relationship and pattern again. This, it occurred to me, is similar to our own mental existence, our "train of thought" continually moving and, even in memory, unable to be rewound and revisited in exactly the same way. For these works, I created small individual paintings of a swatch of melting ice, then butted them together, like stills in a stop-motion animation, to form a larger tapestry upon which I painted a final ice melt across all of them serving as sort of BandAIDS in time. I liken the result to CAT scans of our mental state.
