Flowers have been a large part of my work for years, but they took on new meaning for me in 2020. As our backyards and gardens became a common respite from the fear, isolation, and boredom of the early days of the pandemic, I thought about the ubiquity of flowers in our lives. We use them to celebrate when life is good, as well as to sooth ourselves when it is not. Their ambiguity is what allows them to be such a versatile symbol. As the world became more uncertain, I craved beauty, both in my life and in my work. Fairly quickly the floral motifs that have been a mainstay of my wall installations began to dominate my sculptures and appear in my paint-chip mosaic work.

Most of my flowers are created using second-hand shirts sourced from thrift shops. As I shop for materials, I focus on searching for certain colors, textures, and patterns, but I also think about the people who once cherished these items of clothing. I think about how the shirts end up here. Did the size or style no longer fit the owner? Or maybe it was part of the final Goodwill run after a loved one passed. I like to think that an article of clothing can have a memory, retaining an essence of the person who wore it, and that once transformed, a little bit of that spirit becomes part of the artwork.

Over the years, since I started making flowers from shirts, I’ve had many people tell me that a petal or a leaf is made from the same material as a shirt that they once had. I often wonder if objects can circle back and reunite with their previous owner. I realize that the odds are slim, but they’re not zero. If you have donated a shirt to charity in New Orleans in the last couple of years, then there is a chance that a little bit of it is hanging on the gallery wall right now.