Writing doesn’t just contain semantic information (meaning), it also contains aesthetic information (the way the letters look, the shapes they make) and personal information (the movement of the turns and drops, the quickness, the shakiness of the hand). If we lack the right set of tools to read the marks, we experience a condition like asemia. Asemia is an actual medical condition where the afflicted person is incapable of understanding or expressing themselves using signs. The sequence of letters, words, or symbols refuses interpretation, forcing the observer to grapple with the unfamiliarity of writing, but also challenges them to create meaning through their own investigation.
My work challenges the viewer to think about the nature of language, symbols, and meaning. Instead of replicating known letters or rearranging words to make new meaning, I’m using my marks to simultaneously deny transfer of information and invite the viewer to create new meaning. The viewer observes the “postscript” and becomes the foreigner, experiencing a new language for the first time. The unintelligible calligraphy functions as writing and it is our inability to unlock the information contained in those marks which invites a dialogue about the nature of language and meaning. We can enjoy the formal qualities of the letters and how they’re put together, but cannot fathom their intent. Because of this, we can appreciate the text as a container but are left with letters that don’t function as they should. My postscript invites a dialogue about the relationship between symbols and meaning that viewers can use to create a new reality.
In my work I am trying to open interpretation of constructed systems that we use to make meaning. My paintings use representations of letters, symbols and graphs that refer to recognizable systems. This “postscript” is a way to construct new places and environments where understanding and interpretation is set free.