by Amy Newell
In general, I think of my work as an attempt to catalogue my life. I treat the art as a visual journal.
My images are autobiographical and the concepts come from my memories (both old and new) of events and
happenings that make up who I am. Sometimes the images evolve around a specific personal event, meeting
or conversation. Other times the ideas are more about memory and communication in a general, universal
way.
I have a tendency towards objects with a history. I am seduced by a worked, worn surface. I am drawn to
matter with a high survival factor. Often in my work I go through a process of remove and replace and
remove and return and replace, continuing until in some unexplainable way the work tells me it is done.
I build my images both literally and figuratively. They begin with ideas of personal and/or communal
recollections; these are their springboards. But inevitably there comes a point in each piece where
the conceptual takes a back seat to the formal. My eye and hand take over and issues of color and
composition become most important. It is not so important to me that the viewer is able to decipher
my cryptic code and arrive at some hidden message, I am not sure one exists. What's important is that
they stay and look, peeling away each layer and delving under the surface.