Every part of a life has to be built, and then held onto, or memory lets it go. That is the whole of my work: I build, and I capture.
Aluminum, bronze and brass. A New Year's gift for five households of one family: each blade carries one member's fingerprint, ordered like a family tree from parents onward.
Cast bronze torso pressed with the soles of soldiers' boots
Forty small bronze earths on sticks, one jar, buy one get one free
What we frame, and what we leave out
The city before it's finished
What hands remember
