FIELD NOTES

Thresholds

I’m drawn to thresholds.

Not dramatic ones.
Not grand arrivals.

The quieter kind.

The almost invisible crossings that happen internally before anything changes outwardly at all.

A shift in attention.
A softening.
A willingness to make work that feels less certain, less performative, less eager to announce itself.

This newer body of work has felt like standing in a doorway for me — one foot in familiar territory, the other stepping toward something quieter and less resolved. Work that asks for close looking. Work that risks being overlooked entirely.

That vulnerability is real.

There are moments when I wonder if the work has become too quiet. Too spare. Too subtle to hold attention in a world that rewards immediacy and volume.

And yet, every time I begin to doubt it, someone responds with extraordinary attentiveness. A thoughtful note. A conversation. A pause long enough to really see.

I carry those moments with me.

So this is simply a note of gratitude to those of you who continue to follow along as the work evolves — through color and silence, through fullness and reduction, through all the shifting thresholds of making.

Thank you for meeting me here.

There is courage in making the work.
But there is also courage in witnessing it.

Self Portrait, Montreal,Canada