I weave six inch wide strips of painted sheet aluminum into blankets. They would look like blankets, except that I incorporate bicycles in the fabric: threading strips through the spokes and frames introduces bumps and curves in the weave, which become exaggerated as the weaving progresses and turn the fabric into an undulating or three-dimensional shape.
I feel driven to perform every aspect of this ritual: painting the rolls of primed aluminum without aim, as if I were rain or grass subject to accident; cutting them in strips in my improvised factory; suspending bicycles with wires as if they were my surrogates, traveling in an infinitely far-off galaxy; weaving the metal over, under, over with dull repetition, introducing scratches in the color from wear and tear, but also navigating the obstacles of the bicycles the way a squash vine navigates its way to sunlight.
Each of the phases of building a Weave of Matter piece is decisive, but incremental. It’s the accumulation of decisions that makes the piece, and pushes it beyond my comprehension. The methodical process, which is loaded with accident, relieves me of the responsibility for virtuoso picture-making and allows events to occur that I could not make up.
Weave of Matter
22w x 8h x 12d feet, sheet aluminum, bicycles, acrylic, wire, 2011