I am interested in the metaphysical home we build for ourselves-how the scope of our interactions and emotions mark both our physical landscapes and our interior spaces. As time passes, have we built a shelter with perfect walls that display the acts written on our bodies? Or does time erase the slate, leaving a blank canvas on which memories are continuously reenacted and revisited? The title of these pieces refers to a literal and metaphorical absence of reserves, both in the ambiguous plans of midwestern suburbs and within our own spiritual practices.

Sontag: "Every era has to reinvent the project of "spirituality" for itself. (Spirituality = plans, terminologies, ideas of deportment aimed at the resolution of painful structural contradictions inherent in the human situation, at the completion of human consciousness, at transcendence.)"

Contingent to this line of research is an interest in theories of consciousness and how we use design and architecture to manipulate space and experience.

Materials include drawing, woodcut, handmade paper and house paint.