The Lenses Through Which I See.
Reflecting on home, distance, and materiality, this installation looks at the ways places act as lenses through which I see the world. Growing up in a small town in western Nebraska, moving 2,000 miles away to Portland, and thinking about all the places in-between, I have been questioning what it really means to be attached to a place on a map. For me, home is not a fixed or polished idea but something in flux—something built, shifted, and redefined through movement, change, and view point. These places are not the primary driving force of what home is, but rather a place that holds experiences that shape the way I see and move throughout the world.
The three suspended sculptures, cut from plywood on a CNC Router and left unfinished, embody this sense of impermanence and the materiality reminds me of working with my dad growing up. Their staggered placement in the windows reflect how the concept of home is not linear, and how proximity to these places shifts depending on where I stand now. The work invites multiple readings—whether as maps, landscapes, or design focused forms—while holding space for uncertainty. In this way, home becomes both a personal memory, an archive, and an open-ended filter through which to see the world.