Through my activities in the past decade and a half (undergrad to grad school to teaching), I have become very aware of my interests in the quotidian, the fleeting and the finite. How do we choose to mark our days, punctuate our lives? For most, the rhythm of life lies in everyday tasks and our ability to conquer this repetitive minutia; meals, sleep, dusting, dishes, laundry, grocery lists, to-do lists, drive to work, drive home, feed the dog, walk the dog… My work alludes to this repetition in its process and becomes inseparable from the work itself. There is comfort in identifying with the way a piece is made and that familiarity can act as a way into the work for the viewer. Chewed gum is preserved in nail polish, construction paper dots left over from a hole punch are glued back to back, a stack of paper has been slowly worn away by hand, yarn has been crocheted into long lengths of rope and latch hooked into one massive heart. These simple acts are the language of life, and I work this way to tell my own stories with the hope that others will be able to relate to them through their own experiences. In a time when artists are often told, “It’s all been done before” it is important to acknowledge that we are all making work in response to the activity and chatter of our environment, and, although mundane on its surface, it is always a brand new world.