In 2011 I curated a show called "5 Objects and a Story" at Million Fishes in San Francisco. I came across this picture documenting the show recently and was reminiscing about how much this show shaped my current practice. This shot captures me and Ariel Springfield's collections. Mine are the brushes, spools of beige thread, the foot forms and the dust pan. Cleanliness, function, repair, yes yes yes. What you can't see here is the pile of invaginated white socks that I would work on/with for the next 5 years. Memories! 

Maxe Crandall and I were awarded an Eureka Commission from Onassis USA for: Twenty Phone Calls and Many of Them Dirty, a performance installation created by playwright Maxe Crandall and visual artist Emmett Ramstad about intimacy, community building, and pleasure in times of isolation. HOOOOOOOOORRRRRRAAAAAAYYYYYYYY. Stay tuned for more information. 

I am so pleased to be on the Compas roster of amazing artists! Read my spotlight interview for an overview of how my teaching and sculpture work together. Hooray for arts and education!

I am looking out my window at the snow falling and thinking about how things felt when it was warm still. This is a picture of me and Travis McEwen on my shitter sculpture during our studio exhibition Dry Fingers. No shoes! Bare legs! Art together!

I am teaching in the MCAD MFA Program this semester, which corresponds with the MCAD BIENNIAL exhibition! So through the window of the gallery, or if you are a student with access to the building, you may see my sculpture "It's ok" along with the works of my amazing colleagues. Perhaps a walk around the neighborhood will find you in front of the window? Warning: no public bathrooms. There is a great lecture series that accompanies the exhibition whether you are in Minneapolis or not! 

Diana Cage wrote an amazing article for SFMOMA Open Space that talks about our favorite topics: bodies, desire, caretaking. Give it a read!  

Diana Cage took this photo of me in her bathroom in February 2020. 

In December I installed "The bathroom is the place I go to cry. An astrologer told me I would never run out of toilet paper" at Hair and Nails Gallery. It consisted of 200 rolls of toilet paper suspended from the ceiling to create a soft toilet paper drop ceiling that made the bathroom feel like a sound deafening room. I de-installed the piece in early March, bringing home bags and bags of toilet paper that I distributed to friends and family. To say that it is surreal to make this work right before the mad dash for toilet paper is to put it lightly. And how quickly the reading and meaning of the work changes! Wow.

In February I made the piece "It's Okay," a used tissue paper mound atop a golden pedestal. Even when it opened it was a somewhat intense piece to be showing because the tissues were used, but that was February and now it is April and the work is quarantined in the gallery along with all the other works from the show until we can go pick them up again. 

Usually on blog posts I don't get reflective, but it is an interesting time to be an artist making work with paper products dealing with emotion, places of refuge, containment of fluids and intimacy. The ethics class I teach at UMN spent time debating whether I should give away all my toilet paper or keep it as an "art material." We decided that I should save what I "need" and give the rest away. How much do I need? What about about the 250 boxes of tissues from "Do you have a tissue" that are installed in my studio? When the time comes they too will be distributed. And the bucket of soap nubs from "After You", those too may come in handy. And that will be a new life for the work, all of it.