As though tiny surveillance cameras in my head were transmitting documentation of my emotional discourse to the outside world, I use video as a tool to convey personal issues that are difficult to verbally communicate. Symbolic images and metaphor are common devices in my work that simultaneously ask and answer questions; not all people are going to understand a symbol in the same way and thus a conversation about what something means is almost necessary.
I selfishly make work to help myself with issues I don’t know how to solve. I am both the patient and the therapist speaking to each other through a video camera hoping for resolve. If I cannot find a solution to a problem, I discover what I’m really feeling through performance, and then decipher those emotions through the editing process. The performer and the architect are equally as important aspects of myself that come together and create an in-depth look at my individual trauma.
With my work I don’t always say exactly what I mean; I hide part of the meaning behind symbols or editing techniques so that the viewer must spend some time with the piece to understand. If there was too much given away from these confessional videos, there would be an aspect of attention-seeking that I don’t want associated with my art. The interaction with the audience is more like secrets told in confidence rather than boasting about my depressive state. Then, instead of being put off by the drama of the work, there is a shred empathy between people who might be having the same issues.
