What is a heart? In its raw state it is such an alien form; yet we are at its mercy. If there is any problem within its fragile walls, it ceases to sustain life. This teardrop-shaped monument is suspended between two trees, an abstracted form of a heart between two lungs. It challenges the perception of a heart as a complicated, uncontrollable organ. Less than 1% of open heart patients die in surgery, but 17% suffer from post-surgical complications. These complications permanently alter the way a survivor functions and thinks. This monument is a reminder that the heart is nothing but a tool and, fragile though it is, it is meant to assist in the living of life. The monument is located in a small city park across the street from University of Virginia’s medical hospital, where the artist spent three months by her brother’s bed in the intensive care unit after a serious complication in heart-related surgery.]]>
This public sculpture is an exercise in tedium, which seeks not to celebrate the end of the world but rather to embellish its significance through the use of physical and formal elements. This piece above all is a celebration of misappropriated practicality and our society’s inherent need to overindulge in the absurd and unnecessary. This piece is additionally a commentary on our ephemeral status on earth and the notion of its own potential demise. Consider it a sacred and secure defense for an intangible and indefensible idea. If there was ever an attempt to protect our selves against that which we cannot predict or rationally observe and critique with our own senses and vast excesses of wealth and technology, than it is manifested within this sculpture. Simply put “indefensible space”.]]>
Sculptures resembling urban architecture are placed in a rural area as a personal monument of past & present environments. The intent was to join two very separate, opposite residences of mine, Richmond being the current, Grant being the previous. The model was placed in a spot with a certain level of childhood significance – a lookout point – the highest ground of immediate proximity from home. The color palate for the structures is dull grays with subtle pigments as well as washed out pastel tone. This was inspired by Chris Ware’s color choices. It was not intended for the models to be realistic architecture, but rather to playfully hint at the idea, which this palette hopefully supports.
This monument is in honor of my friend Carolina Perez, who died as a result of a car accident on February 22, 2012. She was a passenger in a car with two of my other friends when a drunk driver t-boned them at the intersection of East Canal Street and 2nd Street in Richmond, Virginia at 12:37 a.m. Carolina died in the ER two hours later. The location of the monument is suspended above the right transept of the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, where Carolina often prayed the rosary in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary. The Cathedral was an important place to her; it was like her second home. It was here that I met her, it was here that our friendship developed, and it was the last place I saw her a few hours before she died early on Wednesday morning. But as Carolina always liked to say, “Everything happens for a reason.” I like to think just as her life had a lot of purpose, so did her death. To Carolina, we love and miss you.
I decided to surround the Washington Monument with identical pink versions. I chose the pink color because I wanted them to be an obscene, bright, obnoxious color that people would be forced to look at. I chose to surround the Washington Monument because I wanted to imitate how the American flags surround it in real life, and I wanted to make the monument larger than it was in real life. Since DC is such a flat city, I wanted there to be more than one building that was taller than the capitol building, and have them be really obnoxious looking to break up the flat city scape.]]>