I present five pieces that move through shared territory:
stillness, attention, and the threshold between the visible and the sacred.
Each approaches with a different kind of invitation to deepened perception.
Taken together, the works resist the idea of the artwork as a fixed object. What remains is the encounter itself - quiet, embodied, and present.
Guan Yin
Compound Photographs in the Round
Ten halftone images of Guan Yin, printed on transparent plexiglass and arranged in a circle, create a figure that appears and dissolves as the viewer moves. Light passes through the halftone dots and shifts with every step. The work enacts what it depicts: compassion as something ever-present but never fixed, always depending on your position.
Ehipassiko
Mixed Media
A pedestal with eye holes shaped like an infinity sign invites the viewer to look inside. What they find is a mirror with their own eyes looking back. The title comes from the Buddha’s words in Pali: “come and see for yourself.” The piece does not explain the path so much as place you on it. There is nowhere to look but inward.
Alna, Maine (2 Hours)
Site-Specific Anthotype
A 43-inch circle of plant-based pigment, placed flat on the ground where it was made, holds two hours of sunlight from Alna, Maine on March 28, 2026. There is no subject in the conventional sense, only duration, accumulated as subtle shifts in tone across the surface. The viewer has to look down to see it, an adjustment that makes the act of looking conscious rather than casual. While the image will eventually fade, its viewing window has been extended with a UV resistant coating.
Threshold
Mixed Media
Shoe cubbies at the entrance hold a simple instruction: “please remove your shoes, the cloth below has been blessed.” Taking your shoes off, you slow down, you soften, you arrive differently - the piece has begun. The cloth on the floor is both the destination and the occasion, a threshold you cross with your whole body, an invitation to embodied reverence.
Sea Glass Diptych
Mixed Media
Two Romanesque arch windows lie flat on the floor with sea glass panels that glow from beneath. Vertical, the form reads as sacred, aspirational, reaching. Horizontal, it becomes something else - a window into the floor, a passage to the beyond. Draped over the arches, white scarves hold the illuminated sea glass, resembling ceremonial khata scarves from the Tibetan tradition. Buddhist and Judeo-Christian traditions interweave, mirroring my upbringing between temple and church.
