My work is created with strips of recycled paper collected from magazines, flyers and papers found in my daily life. I am intrigued with the colors and textures in everyday printed matter. Coiling is a very tedious and time-consuming process, it takes countless hours to roll enough strips of magazine pages into coils to create anything of substance. It is an intuitive and ongoing visual experiment.
Each piece begins with a fleeting idea that comes by chance. My mindset is programed to think paper, circular coils and the natural evolution of the product used. Like a puzzle, the composition evolves one piece at a time. I continue to cut, roll and otherwise manipulate possible elements, making decisions about what works and what is needed next to complete the composition, balance, movement, and growth.
Crafted from a paper maché pod, its bulbous form is wrapped in concentric book-paper quills—like the tight spiral of growth rings or the eyes of an ancient coral. Within, it holds the detritus of consumption: tiny fragments of plastic and packaging, reimagined not as waste, but as core and seed, as if even refuse can germinate into meaning.
Its crown spills over in a wild, straw-like cascade—recycled raffia gifted by a local business—evoking the tangled roots of a sprouting plant or the soft waving arms of a sea anemone. Earth and ocean meet here in form and feeling.