Glass Eyes 

Fluid on my optic nerve threatened to blind me. I sought to turn the darkness into a black velvet blanket until the rage passed. It didn’t. Beneath the blanket, doubtful memories surfaced. I painted them in flashes, barely touching them, careful not to leave any mark on the body.   In the paintings, the taxidermied figure is a hollow body that bears signs of violence, a false spectacle masking death with a fantasy of eternity. Peering into its glass eyes, I contemplate helplessness, avoidance, war. It draws out memories that want both to look away, and to insist on being seen – proof of what happened, and is still happening. Partial, digital, immaterial testimony allows me to soften light and color to transform artifice into validity