(born in France), believed in jobs.  He had the highest level security clearance and also the highest level of suspicion of anything intangible, like ‘Art’ or ‘feelings’.  He saved his biggest feelings for his opinions about ‘work’, meaning employment.  Well, his second biggest- he had even stronger feelings about my NOT becoming an artists. Unless it had benefits, a badge, and a briefcase, it was not work.

Naturally, his obsession with this concept made me incredibibly curious… what was he so afraid of.  As a young adult I had my eureka moment- when I mentioned being an artist. So that’s what he was so afraid of, I thought.

Naturally, I had found my calling.  Even long-after I accepted that I am an artist, a photographer, painter and whatever other medium suits me, I struggled with the validity of talking about it.  The concept of a critique seemed insanely time-wasting and self-indulgent.  Finally, after struggling to make work on my own and never talk about it, I went back to school, this time for a Master’s of Fine Art.  Luckily my Dad had died by then, or it would have killed him.

After two years, I could talk about my work without unleashing an emotional tsunami of repressed emotions into the critique space.  Now, I can even answer questions.

And this site is the platform for whatever I decide “the work” will be going forward.  Le Boulot is my way of honoring and rebelling. This in The Work, my work.  In involves sequins, speculative futures and entanglement theory.  I hope to curate more art shows, sew more sequins to photographs, and record the fleeting nature of how things are right now, in a world changing too fast to  realize the effect we are having, just by observing the experiment.