Can’t. Breathe.

A serendipitous find of old puppet head molds led me down a path paved with frustration but also the occasional pleasant surprise as molds and materials yielded unpredictable and frequently transient results.  Even as my focus was largely concentrated on getting the materials to behave, puppets began to present themselves to me. At first it seemed that with their impossibly long arms and bodies or having been stuffed into boxes, these unfortunate creations would never be animate.  But, as time and work go on, newer pieces have avoided walls and are instead suspended.  They gently sway or turn as the air moves and seem pleased with that bit of freedom. Although it took me a while to realize it, the puppets refer to familiar themes of previous work: nurturance and familial relationships, misogyny and fear of loss. 

The most recent piece of the series, Sua culpa, a triptych of priests, recalls my education in a Catholic school, where children were taught by angry nuns and overseen by fearsome priests. The harsh lessons of school, often echoed at home, were incorporated into my childhood self and result in my grownup opinions on religion, abuse of authority, and negligence by those entrusted with care.