WHY BURLAP?
Moment of truth… I was recently asked this question in an interview and it wasn’t something I ever expected to answer because, well, it’s not a happy reason why I chose it. I was advised by a friend to tell the story of not how I found the burlap, as I had done previously, but the why.
When contemplating the design of “Story of 43” I needed a material to really represent who I was as a person since I was telling my own life’s journey. All I knew was that I wanted it to ‘pop’ off the canvas. It needed to reach for something outside of it’s own journey. I had played with acrylic paint in the past but I couldn’t make it “reach” off the canvas. So when I came across a roll of burlap it was the obvious answer to what I was looking for but not for the reason I expected.
We spend our whole lives trying to cover up our flaws, our pain, our edges. We may do this with clothing, a smile or makeup. So I did that very thing with the burlap… with paint. Once the burlap is painted it becomes ridged, it cracks under the pressure of bending into position and the frayed edges reach out to escape the canvas.
At the time, burlap was the perfect representation of how I felt as a person throughout my life. I had been called “rough around the edges” my entire life but the reason for the roughness was really because of the brokenness I felt inside. Whether that brokenness came from the loss of my mother to cancer when I was 13, who loved me unconditionally and a pain I still feel today, or from the emotional and physically abusive environment I grew up in in my father’s home, or being sexually molested or raped… all of these experiences are a part of me and all culminate into the person I am today. That brokenness never goes away but it can fade into the distance, it heals and it can make us beautifully stronger.
When you stand back and look at “Story of 43” you see the art in it’s whole form, the gradual darkness fades from one color then into the other. Darkness then ultimately into light. The escape from darkness, finding a path into a better, a different and happier/brighter life. But when you step closer and look at the individual pieces, you can see each frayed edge, each twisted piece and the flaws/cracks that you simply cannot ignore. This piece was always very personal and meant as an expression to celebrate the successes in my life for getting out of the abusive cycle and being a survivor. No small feat all expressed in only 2,183 square inches.
And that is the full story of 43.
P.S. Burlap: Just One Part of the New Equation
Burlap was a raw, humble material that held space for my pain, my healing, and my truth. What I didn’t expect was how many others would reach for it too—not just with their eyes, but with their hands.
What began as personal expression has grown into shared experience. People touched the burlap and found comfort, connection, even calm. And that—well, that shifted everything.
There’s something quietly powerful about touch. It speaks where words fall short, especially for those living with dementia or navigating deep emotional currents. A textured surface, a familiar pressure, even the soft weight of a hand—these are not small things. They’re grounding. Reassuring. Sometimes, they’re the only way through.
My journey with my art has lead me to a completely unplanned and beautiful path. Through my volunteer work with A.R.C. I learned that art speaks to everyone differently and can do so in a profound way. By allowing people to touch the untouchable, fine art, the casual observer becomes part of the art as it, literally, touches them back. The participants of A.R.C. have shown me that touch can be a bridge to:
A way to soothe restlessness.
A form of communication when language falters.
A moment of presence in pain.
A spark of memory.
And as their hand brushes over the painted fibers and spring back into place, causes an audible sound all of it’s own. That audible and tactile exchange at the A.R.C. Center led to something beautiful—a permanent installation, which is created to be experienced, not just observed. And with it, a new realization: burlap was just the beginning.
Now, with this wonderful commission, I’m thinking in full spectrum. Sound. Scent. Light. Motion. Texture. I’m designing with all five senses in mind—because healing doesn’t happen in one dimension, and neither does art.
This next chapter isn't just about burlap. It’s about building spaces that feel. That respond. That welcome people exactly as they are—and meet them there through all five senses.
For the full story READ HERE.