Everyday I get up from bed and move throughout the day, each step writing a story that has no reader. The unimaginable people that I meet throughout a day also have their stories and very seldom do I ever have the pleasure of knowing parts of them. For 19 years I have searched for the name of the feeling which compels me to make utilitarian work. I found it, its name is compassion and it has many forms.
My compassion is manifested in utilitarian objects because in a way I know that is what binds us. How do I know? I go out and survey people and ask them questions on the story their steps wrote in a day and where were they most kind. Most of the time, people are kind everyday, at other times they are not. Below are series about my utilitarian work being molds of my compassion and different ways that I show it through fiction, through pattern, and through light.