Every installation I create begins with materials collected from the community, the neighborhood, the wider world community, or the commissioning partner. By starting with an invitation to the community, I start building connections to the artwork and connections between the participants.  

Folks are thrilled to do something with single use plastics (the packaging, the wrapping, the bottle caps etc), used clothing, rescued fabrics, the odd bits they’ve been holding onto because throwing them out felt wrong. People always show up with more than enough, material collection is its own joyful activity.

Once the materials are collected, the creation begins. That involvement of the community can look like a lot of things, yet it’s always hands-on: stitching, cutting, collaging, bending, forming, or working with resin. Each project requires its own methods, but the hand is always visible. When it’s time to build the art, the energy is electric. Sometimes it feels like a modern quilting bee, with people chatting while they cut or stitch. Other times it’s a fully physical experience of shaping an environment together. However it happens, creating collectively is powerful.

People love being part of that making. Maybe it’s employees contributing to an artwork they’ll walk past every day. Maybe it’s families and neighbors stitching side by side. Maybe it’s participants across the world sending in small elements that become part of a larger whole.

A public art installation made with the people who will live with it becomes something deeper: heartfelt, personal, and genuinely beloved. That, to me, is what public art is supposed to be.