The nest is a place of safety, a place of vulnerability and responsibility, of primal physical and emotional needing. To glimpse inside a nest is something rare and almost forbidden. It promises to reveal something intimate.
In these nests, the figurative or imagined personal enclosure is exposed as if to reveal some secret truth. We are faced with the empty core of the nest over and over in each piece while the branch-work tangles and juts in every direction. The nests have the illusion of depth, vacillating from deep recessions to pregnant bulges as though they have been turned inside-out. Inviting and disturbing, the nests seem to be unraveling, dropping in space, wound too tightly, or generally unstable.
In this body of work, the physical and psychological experience of nesting becomes manifest by way of an almost calligraphic visual language.