This is one of my favorite pieces of late. It shows a new direction I’m heading in— (hint: you’ll be seeing a lot of red thread in the coming year)— and its meaning keeps growing and expanding as I sit with it.

I painted this originally as a musing on love. Romantic, platonic— any kind of close relationship, really. I’m drawn to the vessel as a symbol of being, as something that contains and exhibits but can also mask , can hold things not visible to the beholder until they emerge from inside.

These two vessels remain autonomous yet connected. To remain intertwined is a choice: the threads can be cut, but not without pain. They cannot be untangled; they must be severed, and there’s a violence and pain in that severance, though it is often necessary. And so: connected, intertwined, but each containing itself, and the option of separation latent in everything. I find remaining connected by choice the most beautiful way of being together. The option of separation, rather than lessening the depth of love, for me increases it. Intertwined by choice.

In all my work, thread symbolizes resourcefulness: it can be used to mend things, put them back together, make something from nothing. The color red represents permanence: the way berries stain, the way so many reds in nature make marks that refuse to come out. Red thread is a powerful means of connection. The ability to mend, to make a sum greater than parts, to commit to permanence — not that the love will necessarily be permanent, but that it will mark you as a person forever.

As the new reality of living with Corona Virus set in, this piece took on a few new meanings for me. The vessels became less about love and partnership and more about any people, all people, with whom we have a connection, and how we put out feelers and threads to try and remain connected with them in an isolated universe. Each phone call is a thread, each text. It’s the best we can do, but it doesn’t feel like enough. When I first painted this piece, I saw the red threads as so strong, such forces of connection. But as we proceeded into month two of social isolation, I saw those red threads— the things connecting me to friends, colleagues, loved ones— looking more and more fragile. This is one reason I love this piece so much: it’s absorbing so many of my feelings about interconnectedness, all the ways we reach out and seek to bind ourselves to other humans. How we are not as autonomous as we think.

Well, you got a philosophical thesis, but I guess the physical details are important too!

Size : 14x20”, framed to 19.5x25”.

Materials : watercolor and ink on 100% cotton Arches cold-press paper

Flat rate $5 shipping (on domestic orders only, please. If you live elsewhere please contact me to arrange shipping cost).