2023
Charcoal on paper
11” x 11” each

These are the first seven of fourteen works in the ‘Sparse’ series, continuing with the destruction of memory. Starting with the preceding ‘Altered’ series, we are shifting to the actual breakdown of memory at the hands of grief, rather than with mere alteration of memory.

With this series, rather than a physical break down, we have large areas that are blanked out, with only snippets of the memories remaining. Like ‘Altered’, there are no figures in these pieces. Only landscapes and text. Sometimes, drawing upon written word can strengthen one’s memory. In the mires of grief, these little areas with text are all that are left to grasp upon.

As a special note, it’s very obvious that a big part of these works is the loss of my mother. “120/80” is literally the vitals screen in her ICU room. Her fingerprints are all over this, figuratively. And literally. The handwriting that I transcribed onto “Handwritten” is my mom’s, from an old Polaroid. The figures from that Polaroid are actually elsewhere in the show (“The Couch”). So yeah, it was nice having my mom’s signature in all of this.

Below are the individual pieces. Here is the text within each, numbered like the list above:
I. Christmas 1991, 3 week-
II. 120/80, 89, 94, 121, (322-, 15
III. JEFFREY, ——MOND ST, NO EXIT
IV. —Y -O — DRUGS :)
V. IT IS NOT WHAT —— KNOW BUT WHO —— KNOW THAT ———
VI. —UE
VII. THE CONE, OPEN