I think a lot about negative space. The way it can hold tension, offer balance, and prompt questions. A chair holds a space for a body, like a page holds space for words. Simultaneously full and empty. Both whole, both hollow. I began by thinking about what a chair in digital form becomes. How can it hold a page? What type of body can fill that space? How can understanding something digitally become a different type of knowing? When does an object become an image, and how does that image become material for another object?
I was drawn to the chairs that felt familar - like the ones my grandparents had in steel blue with a teal tassle trim, or the ones from my parents kitchen that had worn-in seats for each of my siblings. To draw these chairs was to know them, to revist the spaces they existed in, and to see them as both object and material. This series is on going, and has left me with more questions than answers, along with a deep affinity for the American Windsor.