On one level, Bottle Village was, literally, a constructive approach to transforming discard and sorrow into something more.
“I find myself working from a combination of observation, memory, and intuition.”
With its mix of musical styles, languages, accents, and voices, the album is a perfect tribute to the witty and self-deprecating, pretty and noisy, relatable and strange, hopefully despondent music of Jeffrey Lewis.
So I am content to draw, each drawing a provocation, another layer in an ongoing process of poking and prodding at notions of place and landscape and in that sense I am content to let things drift.
There’s so much in life that we can’t capture in words or pictures: everything is shifting, changing, and with more hues, values and shades than our eyes can see, more notes than our ears can hear, more subtleties than our hearts can feel or our minds define. But I love that we still try.
“I like to introduce something remarkable into ordinary, everyday circumstances because I think that there are always interesting things happening all around us––and sometimes some very surreal things.”
I want to capture the “ghosts” that inhabit this area and intertwine them with contemporary images.
We quickly find ourselves in hypnagogic territory, sorting real, unreal, and surreal at the edges of a dream.
The dowry becomes a cathartic process of mourning, remembrance and consolation.