My passion is ignited by the disparate and the discarded, the rusted and the refuse that is amassed in a weekly curbside procession. Ever more abundant in our increasingly single-use world, these once prized possessions of technology and human ingenuity are what fuel my creativity. This nostalgic yearning for our material past has led me to deconstruct and reconstruct the things I find into functioning sculptural lamps that push the boundaries of “reduce, reuse, recycle.”
Growing up in a time when boys were still required to learn the basic skills necessary to maintain a functioning household, I was most fond of woodworking and electrical repair. Later, as a stereotypical dad tinkering in his garage workshop, I began to let whimsy and humor seep into my backyard creations. Now in retirement, I am settling nicely into the age bracket where you “get a pass” in pushing the boundaries of humor and, in my case, my art.
My lamps are all organically southern, in that I find all of the “junk” I use in nearby dumpsters, recycling bins, or abandoned behind restaurants and thrift stores. Much of my creative process involves letting my materials fall into place as my thoughts do the same, creating ironic wordplay, out-of-this-world creatures, or simply a unique perspective on a played-out design.
I enjoy seeing the proverbial light go on when someone understands what my humorous intention was in creating one of my lamps, or when people feel the tug on their heart-strings seeing that old piece of china “like grandma had.” My intention is, when you turn on my lamps, that you smile in knowing that despite the world moving at breakneck speed, we are never too far from the past to reinvent ourselves and make our world a little bit brighter.