If I were to boil down the relationship with my ex-husband to one defining moment, it would be the time he burst through the front door and threw his wedding ring at me. It beamed me squarely in the forehead, clattered to the floor and rolled beneath the sofa. If I were to create a piece which could adequately express all the love and spite, tenderness, pain and paranoia laced into that union, then I could have a peaceful death. Until then my blending of video and performance serves to symbolize the myriad of relationships betwixt friends, family members, and lovers. Each work is a snapshot, a digest version wherein my actions or words provide a descriptive slice devoid of cluttered contextual narratives. Untold questions garner confessions; accusations are hefted upon an unknown subject; physical touch is touted as unconscious truth. If I were to make a piece about that fateful day, it would be my piece de resistance, but I just don’t think it could happen without great fits of laughter.
Detail photo from an older installation work: His wedding ring embedded in the wall with another woman's hair filling the center.
