I remember that I loved digging through my granddaddy’s greasy red toolbox. I’d spend hours looking for just the right tool to fix stuff with. I would usually settle on an old, rusty butter knife. While my friends played with Barbies, I took apart the lawn mower. They collected seashells, Breyer horses, and snow globes. I collected rocks and old door knobs. I felt empowered, purposeful, and yet a little out of control as I turned those rusty screws with that old butter knife. I was mesmerized by rust. Rust is unapologetic. Rust is defiant. Rust is not an ugly sign of stagnation, but rather a commodity — a beautiful thing, often overlooked and completely misunderstood.

My work is an examination of the unwritten rules which have informed my environment and my presence within it. I was born to be an assemblage artist. I relate to rust. it is in my blood and it is my guide.

I am a self-taught artist who is unafraid of using even the rustiest butter knife to create objects of beauty.