My current work is based on a juxtaposition between spiritual and domestic spaces. Some of the sources I draw from are altarpieces, shrines, living spaces, and textile design. Coming from a staunch Catholic background, I combine the traditional features of Catholic churches and worship with common scenes of home life. The Church proclaims itself to be a home to its members, but on condition. My paintings hope to construct organic worship spaces out of features of the home, utilizing the symmetry and framing conventions prevalent in the Catholic Church. 

An overarching question in my studio practice is, “How many aesthetic systems can interact without becoming illegible?” One aesthetic system represented in an image is uniform and highly legible, but it is still combined with the language of paint, which creates at least two working systems (ex: Catholic altars + painterly mark). Adding a second external system causes a three-way collision, in which the two external sources must intersect both with one another and with paint (ex: Catholic altars + quilting + paint). 

I work from observation, assembling small shrines out of related objects. These paintings refer to the tools and products of textile work, an heirloom practice among women in my family. As a traditionally feminine craft, the practice of creating quilts and garments for the family serve a dual purpose akin to worship--they serve a practical use for protection and warmth, but still are rooted in preserving the artefact of craft itself--one that is often passed down from mother to daughter. One aspect of this craft that I admire is the meticulous and methodical approach to detail, which I attempt to translate into my painting process. 

What are the factors that maintain the legibility of multiple aesthetic systems in paint? Is it necessary that all systems are recognizable, or does that muddle the effect of the painting? If one samples specific formal conventions and motifs from a wide variety of sources, what needs to remain constant? The visual language of worship, the craft of domestic work, and the language of painting seem quite compatible. The act of painting itself involves extended observation and study, and for me, affection. In combining these different sources, I aim for a consistency of attention and temperament toward the subject, in order to reflect the subject in three overlapping systems to highlight their similarities and display the underlying spirituality of crafting spaces.