si·no·pia | \ sə-ˈnō-pē-ə \
plural sinopias or sinopie\ sə-ˈnō-pē-ˌā \
1 : a red to reddish-brown earth pigment used by the ancients that depends for its color on its content of red ferric oxide
2 : a preliminary drawing for a fresco done in sinopia
Sinopia is a story of isolation, the exploration of embodiment, interoception, repetitive ritual, induced pain, experimental plant companionship, and chthonic reflection.
The color red embodies lust, love, war, anger, power and violence; but what is hidden in the oldest reds, the deepest personal reds, the earthly reds, the rotting reds, that lay below the surface of humanity's oldest artworks. What have we lost during rapid changes throughout history?
What is the essence of life?
What have we become?
I have a strong fascination with bodily and psychological perseverance, as well as ideas of body memory, and time, and often wonder where the body ends and begins. I am inspired by the garden, and various plant processes, growth patterns, and seasonality, as well as speculation into remedy, poison, and eradication. In the show Sinopia, I hope to communicate an exploration of life that is cyclical, complex, and mirrors observations in the garden of the vegetation processes of birth, growth, decay, death, and resurrection.
This work, for me, is rooted in medicine. I hope to communicate this through surgical-like stitching, and the use of vegetation as medium in my sculptural work, as well as making medicinal ointments used in my oil paintings. I re-integrate specific plant materials from archeological and folkloric history into my process. Weaving aspects of inside and outside the body (nervous system), and representation of deconstruction and reconstruction, for me, leaves a mark of change that is painful, sometimes beautiful, yet certain. I relate this to epigenetics, and the possibilities of repatterning our brain and body.