Total Eclipse of the Art

Making art is a way of mastering the horribly strange and the overwhelmingly large monsters in our lives. For me, the process of embroidery and quilting offers a means to manifest that, which is otherwise inaudible. Total Eclipse of the Art is a series of hybridized domestic art objects, which in their transmuted form, oscillate between exquisite and mess, concealing and revealing, control and chaos. The structure of the quilt acts as the backbone, appearing at times so “together” while in other instances, threads and batting reveal themselves as less intact. Lurking from the inside out, these monsters are at once enacted and abstracted through an additive and subtractive process. I associate this process with empowerment, in consideration of agency through my materials. This creates a visceral materiality and a space for my viewer to project themselves into the work. Each monster possesses a dark playfulness that gives light to the muted theatricality that anxiety often embodies.

Exquisite / Mess

Exquisite and Mess have been together forever. Their relationship is tremendously tumultuous, but they know that they cannot exist apart. Exquisite always takes, while Mess always gives. At times, this can be so very hard on Mess, but he knows that Exquisite is worth it. When Exquisite is hurt, Mess bandages her. When Exquisite feels down, Mess lifts her up. Exquisite wants to tell Mess how she truly feels, but buries her words deep, deep down. She is a control freak, who hates to share her feelings. Exquisite works hard to always present herself as put together and perfect, hiding all the chaos. Mess does anything and everything he can to support Exquisite. He is always holding onto to her for dear life, afraid that she will no longer need him one day.


Wallow both luxuriates and flounders in her bursts of self indulgent, self-pity. With barely any energy at all, she hangs on, wondering what it is all for. Wallow can get a little berserk, and when she gets really nervous, has a tendency to barf out her words. This may seems gross, but it is the only thing that works for her. Wallow has been blotched many, many times. So much so that you can barely see her beautiful floral pattern anymore. When Wallow witnesses other lovingly dyed fabric, she yearns for someone to one day treats her like that. Wallow’s stains simply rest on top, never fully becoming one with her. The crustiness of her stains hides the fact that she is actually quite poofy and great to cuddle with. Wallow wonders when the murky part of her life will be over and things will once again become clear.


Crumble wonders what it means to fit in, to belong, and to match. Will she ever and does she even want to? The thought of starting the day can be so overwhelming for Crumble that sometimes she just doesn’t. Afraid of what the world holds for her, Crumble stalls before she starts anything at all. At times, she feels cool because of her fancy socks, but lacks the self-confidence to fully embrace it. So she curls up in a safe place, out of reach, and waits. For what, she doesn’t know and doesn’t really care. The floor may be a dirty place to hide, but Crumble doesn’t want to be a bother.


Mope is stubborn and dwells on the past because he just can’t let things go. He over compensates his lack of self-trust with bold statements about how others should live their lives. This causes him to have many awkward confrontations with his homies in which, he usually loses. Afterwards, Mope needs to redress his wounds – alone – as to not rely on anyone else. His appendages take the brunt of the damage because his tummy is very sensitive. He is both pristine but chaotic. Mope is a walking contradiction.


Shame was made with love and care. He is soft spoken and easily intimidated, so he prefers to ghost into the background. His spine has been removed, in quite a violent manner, for reasons that he still doesn’t understand. Shame did nothing wrong. Needless to say, the impromptu surgery just made life worse for Shame. With his innards exposed and personal thoughts present, but obscured, Shame wonders if this feeling will ever dissipate. Now, Shame faces the wall because he knows, no matter what he does, you, too, will eventually reject him. One day, an external force tried to save Shame, but the mends did not make amends. The stitching was violent and warped his skin, making him even more deformed. Shame is still just as feeble as before, only now, he looks as crummy as he feels.