Multimedia artist, storyteller, and educator based in Iowa City.

Artist Statement

My work combines cyanotype, sculpture, and installation to investigate the impacts of trauma and the shadow it casts upon memory, experience, and identity. These impacts do more than sunder the physical, they erode the interior—memories retreat, synaptic pathways contract, the shattered pieces of identity entomb. Trauma is not something that simply happens, but something that becomes. A shifting of self that rearranges to a shape that fits between the voids left behind. As the victim of abuse, the shape I took no longer feels like my own.

My practice is guided by an effect known as “memory amplification,” in which victims of traumatic events often recall those memories in exaggerated detail. Pain becomes heightened, and that memory transforms into something different. This “something different” is where my practice finds its purpose. I create new shapes from broken things. Using rotted wood as a proxy for self, I wrap these found objects in light sensitive fabric, which simultaneously act as documentation and death shroud. I then bury them for the earth to swallow and time to distort. Later, I exhume each item to reveal their new shape—a sculptural approximation of the something different that occurs in traumatic memory recall.

These bound memorials compel the viewer to consider the painful nature of the things long lost and perhaps remind them of our individual ability to lay them to rest. My practice is an invitation for others to contemplate the shapes of grief that haunt their memory by transforming the photographic into the sculptural.

unfinal shapes

Trauma is the missing, the removed, the broken, the shape without fixed form. I use salvage and pieces of rotting wood in each sculpture as the representation of this embodied trauma.

Materials
Cyanotype fabric, wood, soil

Year
2022

Your first memories are hard to grasp—scarce, but brilliant—like chasing fading embers as they rise into the night sky. The paths they trace, an incomplete story that feels less and less like your own. A curious child with a sharp mind but a soft heart. A heart you protected in circles of loam while the cuckoos sang hidden in the branches above. Your precious few memories live within that loam, anything beyond is met by a hungering maw of darkness. The darkness between stars.

Only the song remains.

death shrouds

Every hole I bury my work within is lined with another piece of cyanotype fabric. Each death shroud documents the experience of burial and the impact of outside forces—like viewing a constellation beneath the ocean waves, these fabric specters hold in place a memory that has transformed into the unrecognizable.

Materials
Cyanotype fabric + soil

Year
2021

A rhyme your grandmother would recite in her sleep. A song you joyfully sang with words that twisted through you like deep roots reaching beneath. The underneath. That was the voice flowing through you. 

in collaboration with…

It all begins with a shovel and the soil. A conversation between my hands and the earth. My art is way of negotiating with the dark—a therapy in which I use my hands to speak.

Memories shift and collide like the fingers that now collapse and push against one another. Petrified digits that extend in perpetual prayer. Asking—no, begging, for a space that no longer exists. You're sure there was a time when they once could bend. Now they feel more like hooks dragging the corpse of a past self, tapping and twitching to a unfinal rhythm.

You remember the bark.
Something in that wood changed you.

bury them deep

The earth, like our bodies, always remembers—with every gesture remains a lingering trace. You will hold everything I no longer can.

Materials
Photo prints, various sizes

Year
2021

About the artist

Patrick is an Iowa born artist, educator, and graphic designer. His free time is spent wandering the woods—caught between blue sky and black earth. Cyanotypes are the connective thread in his work and are often accompanied by soil, salt, and elements of the natural landscape in which they were made.