The act of destruction and creation closely follow each other in my art practice. I break glass into small shards and put them back together again, this time into a dreamy image.   

My process typically begins with a query: “What if this was not just a rushing river bubbling against the brute force of a boulder but also a galaxy made up of millions of stars gathered around a nucleus center of powerful energy? How would that look?” I play with ideas like this for days on end until the idea starts to glow red hot with creative energy. Then I set to work.

 I emphasize the broken appearance of the glass with large spacing. The spacing creates a sense of dissonance from the original inspiration. In doing this, I establish a gap between the literal and the imagined. It is within this gap that a viewer is able to interpret my work with dream-like reasoning. The dreamer can make wild connections, jumping from idea to idea with deceptive logicality. But due to the fickle nature of glass, often iridescent, I do not allow the viewer to hold onto any one interpretation for long. Any interpretation of my work becomes a mere illusion with a simple shift in view point. A shattered and distorted gradient of mirror shards leaves the viewer with just a twinkle of light devoid of any true reflection.