La soie, sensible à la lumière et à la couleur, possède pourtant la capacité de retenir la trace, d’inscrire la mémoire. Mes batiks relèvent d’un travail du motif, entendu comme un principe vivant : dans la nature, le motif procède par répétition et variation, incarnant une force vitale.         

I enjoy the unexpected beauty and order that emerges from a rigorous process. Batik occurs in a layered sequence governed by certain laws of how fabric fibers absorb dye color. There is a play of idea and gesture within a given set of rules about the elements; colors emerge with a structural quality; light is channeled and revealed.

The silk filaments are volatile with light and color, and they are steady in holding a pattern – a memory. Pattern is a process of repetition, an incarnated and memorized trace of life force. The wax is also a material with vital patterning. As I paint with the melted wax on the silk, I feel the thrill of participation, of bringing to light a gesture, a color, a line.

Knowing that the silk will ineffaceably preserve every gesture could be paralyzing. Sometimes when I have the blank canvas of white silk before me, I feel the heartbreak of doing anything. But then there is the factor of time and layers. If I move through a thought or an idea and another is offered up in its wake it creates a larger pattern, where a single line - be it perceived as a mistake or as a perfect note - is absorbed into a larger energetic entity. I work steadily, with a fascination and a sort of faith in the process.