Sunday, February 19, 2012


I'm captivated by the concept of repetition. I'm spiritually moved by it. I think the majority of our actions are repetitive movements. Life happens through processes of repetition. In order to move forward, we must understand what is and isn't important to repeat. This happens both unconsciously and deliberately.

A few weeks ago, I attended the exhibit opening of "Jubilation|Rumination: Life, Real and Imagined" at the American Folk Art Museum. The entire collection was intriguing, but a particular work that particularly captivated me was "Untitled #303" by Hiroyuki Doi. It is essentially a huge collection of circles of varying sizes, and it has haunted me ever since I first saw it. The intricacy of it is astounding, and I feel strongly connected to it. 

There is so something so instinctual, so primal about repetition. Meditative, repetitive work evokes a visceral response in me that speaks to that essence. Inspired, I created my own series of circles.

Along with repetition, I am drawn to the idea of use and waste. Where do our possessions go? When do they die? Answers to these questions seem so far away in the American Consumerist culture, which I am a part of. Immediacy has replaced death -- in our minds, at least. 

I'm taking baby steps, but first steps, in exploring my connections to all of these ideas: repetition, use and waste. I made circles on brown paper given to me by construction workers, whittling down 3 colored pencils until there was almost nothing left. The fourth lay half used, awaiting its purpose. These moments were strangely funereal.