For an entire year, I tracked how much I ate and exercised as well as the resultant weekly weight loss and gain. To celebrate the year-long battle to re-sculpt my body and change my life, I converted the numerical data into tangible forms. Using computer-modeling programs, the data drives the shape of the digitally three-dimensional forms.
Once satisfied with the data-driven creations, I created three bodies of work:
1. line drawings, laser-etched in Baltic birch.
2. Photo-composite sculpture
3. FDM printed and embellished sculpture
laser-etched birch
6" x 12"
laser-etched birch
12" x 24"
details below
laser-etched birch plywood
12" x 24"
details below
laser-etched birch
24" x 12"
laser-etched birch plywood
12" x 12"
laser-etched birch plywood
12” x 12”
3-d printed ABS, acrylic paint, human hair
9” x 12.5” x 9.5”
detail below
photographic composite of digitally modeled sculpture
1056 series
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father.
On May 28, 2009, one Facebook friend challenged all of her Facebook friends to write a haiku. I did. For the next two years, my daily status updates were written in haiku form. For two more, I was a bit less consistent. Regardless, I secretly tracked the amount of likes and comments each poem received. The data-driven forms in this exhibition are derived from that feedback and dynamically document the growth of my social interaction over time. They make numbers tangible. And beautiful.
The data may drive the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random.
The entire process of data collection, documentation and interpretation serves as a substitute for my memory as I continually revisit my past. It is an exploration of hyperbole, and a measurement of impression management in social media.
front view (left), side view (right)
laser-etched birch plywood
overall dimensions of each view: 6" x 9.5"
front view (top), side view (bottom)
laser-etched birch plywood
overall dimensions of each view: 8.75" x 35"
front view (left), side view (right)
laser-etched birch plywood
overall dimensions of each view: 12.5" x 13.5"
front view (left), side view (right)
laser-etched birch
overall dimensions of each view: 24" x 11"
9 laser-etched birch plywood panels, 63.5" x 86"
click to open all views
laser-etched birch plywood
6” x varying widths
click to open all views
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father.
As I became more active, I tracked the miles I walked and/or ran each day for three years. The regularity of my habits became evident in the forms, even as the mileage increases.
The data may drive the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random.
The entire process of data collection, documentation and interpretation serves as a substitute for my memory as I continually revisit my past. It is an exploration of my commitment to health, and a celebration of my successes.
Laser-etched birch plywood
9.5 " x 24"
Animated gif from laser-etched birch plywood
Laser-etched birch plywood
13" x 32"
Laser-etched birch plywood
3 laminated serial planes
16" x 8.25"
In July of 2008, artist Rubi McGrory unwrapped a Twinkie and a McDonald's cheeseburger and commemorated the dates on them in Swarovski crystals. These were left in a kitchen cabinet, or in a hand bag, or in her wine rack, unrefrigerated. Ten years later, they were virtually intact, albeit hardened and discolored. In celebration of this decade, twenty artists were invited by Location Gallery to create work inspired by the permanence and pop culture of junk food.
My approach was to track the food and calories I ate for one week. In comparison, I tracked an alternative and imaginary week of eating McDonald’s equivalents. Both data sets are visualized in the original version and the real food was re-visited in a playful pink edition.
Acrylic on wood panel
18” x 24”
Water-based pigment on wood panel
10” x 8”
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father.
In the past ten years, text messaging has become an integral part of many relationships. I have begun examining my histories with people through the frequency of our texts. Currently, I have looked at 3. The first, a brand new friendship that blossomed over 6 months. The second, a romantic relationship that begins with the first date and ends with the last text almost 5 years later. The third is a group chat of 6 living all over. There are plans to continue the text series with additional friends and family.
The data may drive the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random.
New tools and materials are used in this series. Although some rely on laser engraving, a flat-bed UV printer introduced opportunities to using resin and paint on wood, as well as embroidered designs.
The entire process of data collection, documentation and interpretation serves as a substitute for my memory as I continually revisit my past. It is an exploration of hyperbole, and a measurement of interpersonal connection and the shifting dynamics of relationships.
Acrylic and synthetic resin on bass plywood
18” x 24”
Embroidery floss on cotton
10” diameter
Gel ink on wood panel
10” x 8”
Gel ink on wood panel
8” x 8”
Water-based pigment on wood panel
10” x 8”
Gel ink on wood panel
6” x 12”
Acrylic on birch plywood
20” x 20”
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father.
In the past ten years, text messaging has become an integral part of many relationships. I have begun examining my histories with people through the frequency of our texts. Currently, I have looked at 3. The first, a brand new friendship that blossomed over 6 months. The second, a romantic relationship that begins with the first date and ends with the last text almost 5 years later. The third is a group chat of 6 living all over. There are plans to continue the text series with additional friends and family.
The data may drive the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random.
New tools and materials are used in this series. Although some rely on laser engraving, a flat-bed UV printer introduced opportunities to using resin and paint on wood, as well as embroidered designs.
The entire process of data collection, documentation and interpretation serves as a substitute for my memory as I continually revisit my past. It is an exploration of hyperbole, and a measurement of interpersonal connection and the shifting dynamics of relationships.
Laser Etched Birch Plywood
Laser-etched Birch Plywood
Water-based pigment on wood panel
10” x 8”
Gel ink on wood panel
8” x 8”
Water-based pigment on wood panel
10” x 8”
Water-based pigment ink on wood panel
12” x 12”
Water-based pigment ink on wood panel
12” x 12”
Gold ink and acrylic on wood panel
12” x 12”
Gold ink and acrylic on wood panel
12” x 12”
Gold ink and acrylic on wood panel
12” x 12”
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father. I analyze my daily life, including data such as weight loss and gain, comments and likes on social media, miles ran or walked. All of these are logically quantifiable, but currently, my obsession is with relationships. How does one represent the intangible bonds between people? I’ve been capturing the rhythm of relationships by meticulously tracking text messages sent and received, and less than meticulously estimating sexual encounters.
The data I gather drives the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. The technique behind this work involves three-dimensional modeling programs to build the digital masses, that are eventually frozen, specific views are hand-drawn, and some of those drawings are re-animated for the viewer.
I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random. There are many experiments that live on only in my computer as rejected attempts. In the work that survives, relative quantity becomes clear as scales shift and forms appear to occupy space.
The entire process allows me to revisit important moments and remember the mundane. In the drawings that result, frienergy ebbs and flows. Components explode, forms shrink. People come. People go. Sometimes they come back.
Mural
Acrylic Ink
Partial views of both the Sex Series and Text Series: Baskin 2020-2022
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father. I analyze my daily life, including data such as weight loss and gain, comments and likes on social media, miles ran or walked. All of these are logically quantifiable, but currently, my obsession is with relationships. How does one represent the intangible bonds between people? I’ve been capturing the rhythm of relationships by meticulously tracking text messages sent and received, and less than meticulously estimating sexual encounters.
The data I gather drives the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. The technique behind this work involves three-dimensional modeling programs to build the digital masses, that are eventually frozen, specific views are hand-drawn, and some of those drawings are re-animated for the viewer.
I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random. There are many experiments that live on only in my computer as rejected attempts. In the work that survives, relative quantity becomes clear as scales shift and forms appear to occupy space.
The entire process allows me to revisit important moments and remember the mundane. In the drawings that result, frienergy ebbs and flows. Components explode, forms shrink. People come. People go. Sometimes they come back.
Acrylic Ink on Birch Panel
48” x 36”
Acrylic Ink on Birch Panel
48” x 24”
Acrylic Ink on Birch Ply
48” x 24”
Acrylic Ink on Birch Panel
10” x 14”
Acrylic Ink on Birch Panel
10” x 14”
Acrylic Ink on Paper, Resin
10” x 14”
Acrylic Ink on Paper, Resin
6” x 14”
Acrylic Ink on Paper, Resin
8” x 14”
I count things. It’s a problem I learned from my father. I analyze my daily life, including data such as weight loss and gain, comments and likes on social media, miles ran or walked. All of these are logically quantifiable, but currently, my obsession is with relationships. How does one represent the intangible bonds between people? I’ve been capturing the rhythm of relationships by meticulously tracking text messages sent and received, and less than meticulously estimating sexual encounters. While every other series is an accurate representation, I am not 100% creep. This data set is an approximation based on memories, not precise record keeping.
The data I gather drives the modeling of 3-dimensional form, but I intentionally avoid creating clearly recognizable infographics. Each new series depicts the same data in multiple ways – allowing the numbers to inform the imagery, but not control the form. The technique behind this work involves three-dimensional modeling programs to build the digital masses, that are eventually frozen, specific views are hand-drawn, and some of those drawings are re-animated for the viewer.
I do not rely on algorithms or generative programs to sculpt space. Using the data, I maneuver the geometry by manually controlling the size of each section, until I am satisfied with the result. Although my process is systematic, it is not random. There are many experiments that live on only in my computer as rejected attempts. In the work that survives, relative quantity becomes clear as scales shift and forms appear to occupy space.
The entire process allows me to revisit important moments and remember the mundane. In the drawings that result, frienergy ebbs and flows. Components explode, forms shrink. People come. People go. Sometimes they come back.
Animation from drawings
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”
Gel pen on translucent yupo layered over archival photographic print
12” x 9”