adobe houses, bachelor’s buttons, black velvet, checkered cabs, dandelion weeds, dusk, whipped egg whites, fall leaves, gray skies, polka dotted ribbon, lemons, holes in a wall, implements, pomegranates, the powdery part of a tulip, dry pure pigments, a starry night, tapioca, weathered handles, the hair coming out of a mole, corduroy, sand in shoes, long eyelashes, mold, a limp, mediterranean doorways, ronunculus, pockets, tomato specks in guacamole, freckles, mohair,  sea anemones, watery blue sapphires

scrafitto, etching, scratching, rubbing, carving, drawing, working the surface.

I am a maker. I use forms that are gestural and expressive of particular human nuances and everyday notions.  My forms and their details come from my interest in human characteristics, personalities and idiosyncrasies.  In other words, I give my forms gesture; I make them expressive; I give them personality and life.  I am not interested in perfected geometric shapes with straight edges.  Irregular lines are more alive than perfectly straight ones.   The forms I favor are awkward and imperfect, in much the same way people are.  All my work is held together with color, abstracted organic shapes, irregular lines and a variety of surface textures.

As a maker, I use drawing to get my ideas out.  Originally my drawings started out as sketches for the furniture and sculptural objects I made but now they are an important part of my work.  My drawings and marks are intuitive; both awkward and sophisticated.  Pattern and visual texture help to emphasize lines and shapes.

Tired of making the same kinds of things, tired of my reliable ideas, I have put away my familiar tools to see what happens next.

Go outside and get me a lemon.  When I lived in California, we had a lemon tree in the front yard.  I think this lemon tree had a disease because the lemons that grew were always scarred and deformed.  Often their skins developed curly rinds and cauliflowered ears.  Otherwise, their thick peels were like any other right lemon: dotted with pits and speckles, at once opaque and translucent, sometimes tart and juicy, other times dry like paper.


Kelli Kiyomi Kadokawa