What stories are hidden in the bones of human history? What poetry can we deduce from the fact that shoulder blades are like wings, vertebra like shape shifters, the spine like a snake, a guitar, a telephone wire? Are bones really gargoyles in disguise? Examining objects to see what other things they look like I create drawings exploring what the bones – human and those of our cousins the animals – have to tell us about ourselves.
Written in the bones, buried in the channel of our bodies. A shoulder blade like a wing wanting to take flight. Animals buried in our spines. A face, a mask, a butterfly; all hidden, buried in my vertebrae and the cow bones. A cat face in a cat spine. Our bones, so similar and related to each other and to our fellow vertebrates. My hand becomes a spider that I use to crawl across your back. My forearm is a hammer, my pelvis becomes a butterfly wanting to take flight in your arms (my sacred bone – sacrum), your spine becomes a snake intertwining through time.