Love Letters

mommy had salad to (Kaja’s text to her father telling him about her day, Jan 14, 2018)

2019, colored pencil on paper, Drawing: 37 x 62 3/4 in. / Frame: 38 3/4 x 64 1/2 in.
I call this text the Rosetta Stone of emojis. It was sent by a seven-year-old to her father from her mother's phone. Her text is a day in the life, describing in both words and emojis (I substituted blank paper in place of the words) what she did that day. We humans have emotions, lots of them, and we love things—especially cats. We have bodies that eat pizza, moms that eat salad (this gendered statement I confess is kind of true), and yes, we poop. There is play at work in this text, which will happen when a kid gets hold of a phone, and alongside that is a teasing, a reaching out, a hope to connect about what we see and know and love.
mommy had salad to (Kaja’s text to her father telling him about her day, Jan 14, 2018)

2019, colored pencil on paper, detail
I call this text the Rosetta Stone of emojis. It was sent by a seven-year-old to her father from her mother's phone. Her text is a day in the life, describing in both words and emojis (I substituted blank paper in place of the words) what she did that day. We humans have emotions, lots of them, and we love things—especially cats. We have bodies that eat pizza, moms that eat salad (this gendered statement I confess is kind of true), and yes, we poop. There is play at work in this text, which will happen when a kid gets hold of a phone, and alongside that is a teasing, a reaching out, a hope to connect about what we see and know and love.
mommy had salad to (Kaja’s text to her father telling him about her day, Jan 14, 2018)

2019, colored pencil on paper, detail
I call this text the Rosetta Stone of emojis. It was sent by a seven-year-old to her father from her mother's phone. Her text is a day in the life, describing in both words and emojis (I substituted blank paper in place of the words) what she did that day. We humans have emotions, lots of them, and we love things—especially cats. We have bodies that eat pizza, moms that eat salad (this gendered statement I confess is kind of true), and yes, we poop. There is play at work in this text, which will happen when a kid gets hold of a phone, and alongside that is a teasing, a reaching out, a hope to connect about what we see and know and love.
mommy had salad to (Kaja’s text to her father telling him about her day, Jan 14, 2018)

Drawing in process
I call this text the Rosetta Stone of emojis. It was sent by a seven-year-old to her father from her mother's phone. Her text is a day in the life, describing in both words and emojis (I substituted blank paper in place of the words) what she did that day. We humans have emotions, lots of them, and we love things—especially cats. We have bodies that eat pizza, moms that eat salad (this gendered statement I confess is kind of true), and yes, we poop. There is play at work in this text, which will happen when a kid gets hold of a phone, and alongside that is a teasing, a reaching out, a hope to connect about what we see and know and love.
mommy had salad to (Kaja’s text to her father telling him about her day, Jan 14, 2018)

2019, colored pencil on paper, detail
I call this text the Rosetta Stone of emojis. It was sent by a seven-year-old to her father from her mother's phone. Her text is a day in the life, describing in both words and emojis (I substituted blank paper in place of the words) what she did that day. We humans have emotions, lots of them, and we love things—especially cats. We have bodies that eat pizza, moms that eat salad (this gendered statement I confess is kind of true), and yes, we poop. There is play at work in this text, which will happen when a kid gets hold of a phone, and alongside that is a teasing, a reaching out, a hope to connect about what we see and know and love.
Love Letter from Hayden (Hayden discovers emojis) and my reply

2017, colored pencil on paper, 84 x 44 in. (vertical stack of drawings on left) / 6 5/8 x 40 3/8 in. (drawing on right)
Detail
When my daughter was eight years old, she discovered the world of emojis on her father’s phone. She began sending me lines of emojis, each one a variant of a rainbow. Sometimes she skipped a color (there was no orange heart emoji at the time); sometimes she forgot about purple or added shades of gray at the end. She organized her chosen emojis in rainbow order not because she was an eight-year-old girl, but because I had been organizing random objects in my studio in rainbow order as an investigation of inherent and imposed order. It was me the grownup who was fascinated by rainbows, not the other way around. Emojis can seem silly––they are silly––and can feel like offhand gestures. But there is clarity in my daughter’s texts: they are love letters, simple as that.
Love Letter from Hayden (Hayden discovers emojis) and my reply

Detail
When my daughter was eight years old, she discovered the world of emojis on her father’s phone. She began sending me lines of emojis, each one a variant of a rainbow. Sometimes she skipped a color (there was no orange heart emoji at the time); sometimes she forgot about purple or added shades of gray at the end. She organized her chosen emojis in rainbow order not because she was an eight-year-old girl, but because I had been organizing random objects in my studio in rainbow order as an investigation of inherent and imposed order. It was me the grownup who was fascinated by rainbows, not the other way around. Emojis can seem silly––they are silly––and can feel like offhand gestures. But there is clarity in my daughter’s texts: they are love letters, simple as that.
Love Letter from Hayden (Hayden discovers emojis) and my reply

Detail
When my daughter was eight years old, she discovered the world of emojis on her father’s phone. She began sending me lines of emojis, each one a variant of a rainbow. Sometimes she skipped a color (there was no orange heart emoji at the time); sometimes she forgot about purple or added shades of gray at the end. She organized her chosen emojis in rainbow order not because she was an eight-year-old girl, but because I had been organizing random objects in my studio in rainbow order as an investigation of inherent and imposed order. It was me the grownup who was fascinated by rainbows, not the other way around. Emojis can seem silly––they are silly––and can feel like offhand gestures. But there is clarity in my daughter’s texts: they are love letters, simple as that.
Every text from Joy that includes an emoji (Jun 18, 2016)

2017, colored pencil on paper, Drawing: 54 3/4 x 43 3/4 in. / Framed: 56 1/2 x 45 1/4 in.
In another series I decided to draw every text that included an emoji received from different friends, examining an individual’s language within a broader system. This drawing represents one of the six texts that I received from my friend Joy with an emoji in it. I call Joy a “leaner:” long passages of text (left here as blank paper with accurate spacing) are emphasized by her thumb holding down an icon. Entering my studio day after day to draw heart after heart, blending combinations of Pink Rose, Scarlet Lake, and French Grey to mimic the heart’s lacquer polish, turning a generic symbol from my phone into a physical object––these actions concretized the emotion behind the emojis, what emojis are supposed to represent, after all.
Every text from Joy that includes an emoji (Jun 18, 2016)

Drawing in process
In another series I decided to draw every text that included an emoji received from different friends, examining an individual’s language within a broader system. This drawing represents one of the six texts that I received from my friend Joy with an emoji in it. I call Joy a “leaner:” long passages of text (left here as blank paper with accurate spacing) are emphasized by her thumb holding down an icon. Entering my studio day after day to draw heart after heart, blending combinations of Pink Rose, Scarlet Lake, and French Grey to mimic the heart’s lacquer polish, turning a generic symbol from my phone into a physical object––these actions concretized the emotion behind the emojis, what emojis are supposed to represent, after all.
Crystal Ball (July 13, 2017); Crystal Ball (July 31, 2017); Crystal Ball (August 8, 2017); Crystal Ball (September 20, 2017); Crystal Ball (October 5, 2017); Crystal Ball (November 3, 2017); Crystal Ball (November 16, 2017)

2017, colored pencil on paper, Drawing: 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 in. / Framed: 19 1/4 x 19 1/4 in.(each)
Repetition runs through this work, what we return to and why. When is one heart enough and when are thirty needed? How is one pile of poo a different joke than eleven piles of poo? My deliberate study mirrors the act of gazing into a crystal ball in search of meaning. This search seeks insight, of course, into the uncertain future. But it also investigates the present: what meaning lies within simple, repeated actions such as unloading the dishwasher, tucking our children in each night, or making a mark on paper? Within these boring, enriching, intimate actions is potency, the ebb and flow of living.

My drawings appear sharp at a distance but break down with proximity. All of the details present––I underestimated the complexity of color in a pizza’s crust!––contain my attention. Revealed is a world that is nuanced, particular, careful, and sincere. Paying attention is how we show up in our lives for what really matters. Which is trying to use these clumsy tools to say I love you.
Crystal Ball (July 13, 2017)

Drawing in process
Repetition runs through this work, what we return to and why. When is one heart enough and when are thirty needed? How is one pile of poo a different joke than eleven piles of poo? My deliberate study mirrors the act of gazing into a crystal ball in search of meaning. This search seeks insight, of course, into the uncertain future. But it also investigates the present: what meaning lies within simple, repeated actions such as unloading the dishwasher, tucking our children in each night, or making a mark on paper? Within these boring, enriching, intimate actions is potency, the ebb and flow of living.

My drawings appear sharp at a distance but break down with proximity. All of the details present––I underestimated the complexity of color in a pizza’s crust!––contain my attention. Revealed is a world that is nuanced, particular, careful, and sincere. Paying attention is how we show up in our lives for what really matters. Which is trying to use these clumsy tools to say I love you.
Crystal Ball (July 13, 2017); Crystal Ball (July 31, 2017); Crystal Ball (August 8, 2017)

2017, colored pencil on paper, Drawing: 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 in. / Framed: 19 1/4 x 19 1/4 in.(each)
Repetition runs through this work, what we return to and why. When is one heart enough and when are thirty needed? How is one pile of poo a different joke than eleven piles of poo? My deliberate study mirrors the act of gazing into a crystal ball in search of meaning. This search seeks insight, of course, into the uncertain future. But it also investigates the present: what meaning lies within simple, repeated actions such as unloading the dishwasher, tucking our children in each night, or making a mark on paper? Within these boring, enriching, intimate actions is potency, the ebb and flow of living.

My drawings appear sharp at a distance but break down with proximity. All of the details present––I underestimated the complexity of color in a pizza’s crust!––contain my attention. Revealed is a world that is nuanced, particular, careful, and sincere. Paying attention is how we show up in our lives for what really matters. Which is trying to use these clumsy tools to say I love you.

Love Letters shown at Sharon Arts Gallery, June 2019

The descriptive text from the exhibition is included above for each piece.

Emojis annoy me. I prefer the concrete specificity of language. When my eight-year-old daughter discovered the world of emojis on her father’s phone and sent me line after line of emojis, I began to see them differently. My daughter chose emojis based solely on color, creating unique variants of a rainbow; sometimes she skipped a color or added shades of gray at the end. (She knows I love organizing things in rainbow order. Yes, it’s me the grownup who loves rainbows, not the other way around.) Emerging was an aesthetic and individualized voice. Emojis can seem silly—they are silly—and can feel like offhand gestures. But here was clarity: these were love letters, simple as that.

Interested in viewing relationships through this system of meaning we are actively shaping collectively and individually, I began making stacks of drawings, each stack representing every text including emojis received from a particular friend. (This was the early days of emojis when, for example, only seven texts from my friend Toni included emojis over the span of two years.) Leaving blank paper in place of words but the spacing of emojis the same, some drawings became studies in repetition and minimalism while others, overrun with sparkle hearts and unicorns, were a barrage of eye candy and best wishes.

As I craft these drawings, building color layer on layer until the paper is burnished to a glossy shine, intimacy suffuses these generic symbols, continuing my interest in subjectivity and the place of the self within technology and systems of expression.

And, yes, I am obsessed with the crystal ball emoji. My deliberate study of this emoji mirrors the act of gazing into a crystal ball in search of meaning. We live in a time when the future suddenly feels uncertain and more pressing. These repeated drawings act as a meditative journal entry on personal and collective futures.

Drawing the same object over and over is also an attempt to be present. Repetitive tasks fill our lives, from unloading the dishwasher, tucking our children in each night, or sewing together layers of a quilt with needle and thread. Within these boring, enriching, intimate actions is the ebb and flow of living. Drawing a red heart for the 30th time, blending Pink Rose, Scarlet Lake, and French Grey in an attempt to create the illusion of the heart’s lacquer polish, anchors me in what feels real. The emoji becomes an object, a container of my time spent drawing. That process concretizes the emotions behind the emojis—what emojis are supposed to represent, after all.

Additional Bodies of Work