Tell us about your creative process, what drives your practice?

My work is autobiographical in nature and, fundamentally, it is driven by my need for catharsis. Naturally, the process of reflection enables me to observe my own psychology and is crucial to my self-development. 

I employ the language of abstraction − dots, dashes, lines and geometric shapes − as a means of processing unresolved thoughts and subconscious memories. I work intuitively with meticulous methods − combinations of drawing, printmaking and textiles − in order to navigate such introspections.

However, this instinctive methodology of ‘feeling versus knowing’ is grounded in systems of order, specifically the archetypal grid. Although I benefit from working within fixed parameters, I have found that they intensify the desire for control, which may look and feel obsessive. I am interested in exploring such inhibitive behaviour by juxtaposing it with more risky modes of making. I am therefore experimenting with exercises that expose vulnerability and challenge my authorial command.

Your works employ layered processes, such as stitching; scanning, printmaking and drawing which take time and care. What has drawn you to these slow, repetitive methods?

Working slowly and repetitively, thinking in layers or working backwards, are all formal attributes of my academic training (printmaking and textile design) that are habit forming. They are, for me, analytical in nature and encourage a contemplative and focused frame of mind − qualities that are conducive to the psychology of flow and optimal experience.  

Consequently, the slow, repetitive gestures in my practice − such as stitching through paper − are a metaphoric weaving of words whereby the motion of needle and thread act as a vehicle for cathartic sublimation. These inward conversations of revelatory significance evolve gradually and without force. Through time, I have developed a repertoire of mark-making that appears like code or Braille – quiet and tactile.

One primary sensation that is produced through the process of making is the gradual and cathartic release of tension. I am interested in capturing this phenomenon and related experiences (such us ‘knots in the stomach’, the tingling of the skin or the pushing against the grain). I therefore favour slow, repetitive methods, not only for their soothing, therapeutic effects but also for their capacity to embody such intimate forms of human perception.

What is the significance of structuring your intuitive mark-making within grids and controlled configurations?

The grid is, essentially, both a filter and container of emotions. These anthropomorphic characteristics are furthermore accentuated by its paradoxes – its freedom and restraints, its limitations and endless variations. These qualities, combined with its myriad of meanings, are what make the grid so alluring and personally significant.

With this in mind, working within the boundaries of this framework offers a degree of certainty insofar as it enables me to organise thoughts, feelings and sensations that have yet to be defined. This promise of order in my visual, perceptual and emotional world is psychologically comforting. Consequently, channelling energy into each increment of the grid (or any other controlled configuration) and observing the accretion of marks is a serenely rewarding activity that slowly strengthens the psyche. It therefore engenders a feeling of transcendent calm that is transmitted to and experienced by the viewer.

Are there any female printmakers | artists that influence you?

The female artists that move me most are: Agnes Martin for her muted iterations of the grid, Anni Albers for her lessons in tactile sensitivity and Louise Bourgeois for her cathartic, psychoanalytical practice. Intriguingly, none of these iconic artists are known for their prints, yet all of them (in my opinion) discovered their practice anew through their exposure to printmaking. 

These thoughts are lengthy conversations that are perhaps unsuitable for this passage. Nevertheless, I am inspired by what these prolific women brought to this discipline, which is to say a fervent enthusiasm for quiet, repetitive mark making and the outmost respect for quality draughtsmanship. Broadly speaking, their collective approach to printmaking was understated yet remarkably beautiful. 

Finally, what exciting projects are you working on at the moment?

I recently moved from Sydney to the South Coast of NSW. This transition happened swiftly after the completion of my Master of Fine Art at the National Art School. As such, I am excited by the prospect of setting up my new studio and am very much looking forward to the change of pace. 

That said, I am thrilled to be taking part in More Than Reproduction’s Misprint exhibition coming up on the 21st April at Sydney’s Gaffa Gallery.