I’ve always felt that the monsters of childhood are eternal. They may be no longer hiding under our beds or in our closets, but this does not mean that they have vanished forever. One day, we know not where or when, they will return, and we will find ourselves again five years old, shivering under the bed sheets and unable to sleep.
But monsters, in fact, need not only be frightening. Years ago, my mother affectionately referred to my siblings and I as her “little monsters.” We were often, I am sure, rude and uncivilized creatures, but at the same time we were free – free to explore, to play, and above all, to question.
My work seeks to reconcile these two very different types of monsters. Through the representation, destruction, recreation, and occasionally incarceration of all sorts of toys, I hope to give voice to this reconnection and to construct some form of meaningful dialog from it, to show that ultimately we never truly forget our past. Consciously or unconsciously, it informs who we are, how we feel and what we love and hate. Through my work, I hope to make friends with my monsters, both the frightful and the playful ones, and to let them teach me about the child I once was and the child who still lives inside me now.