This exhibit uses the lens shape as a vehicle for appreciating the interconnectedness of all things. I explore the lens as an aesthetic element, as a ubiquitous and naturally occurring shape, and as a metaphor for seeing.

Initially, I was interested in symbols of spirituality and belief, and I began focusing on the image of Mary. However, the residency period felt too short for thorough research into such a deep topic, so I decided to narrow my focus to the shape of the lens—a form that recurs in spiritual imagery as well as in nature. I learned about the use of lenses and related shapes in art, mathematics, science, and the natural world.

The lens is a form defined mathematically by its relationship to other shapes, yet it is also an organic structure—vital, recurring, and essential to vision, growth, and movement. I began to see the lens as both a symbol and a metaphor for universal interconnectedness—an image that represents how we perceive the world.

I was introduced to Aby Warburg’s visual catalogs, which inspired me to use my collage style to create panels exploring the many facets of ellipse, lens, and lunar shapes as they exist in relation to each other, to nature, and to composition.

I was also inspired by Diego Rivera’s mural Man, Controller of the Universe. I found it fascinating that he chose ellipse shapes to showcase human scientific progress. The political message and the concerned expression on the controller’s face remain strikingly relevant, even ninety years later. I chose to mirror Rivera’s use of the shape as a vessel—to show both the extraordinary advances humanity has made and the persistent conflicts and uncertainty we face.

I explored the shapes of the eight stages of the lunar cycle, a natural phenomenon that has captivated humanity since ancient times. Inspired by Alexander Calder’s work, I created a hanging mobile so that the shapes move and interact in new ways, examining the relationship between angle, movement, and form. I also made a similar mobile from man-made lens shapes used to refract images and correct vision.

In my iron aquatint, I pay homage to the striking agave plant, with its fleshy, lenticular leaves. The bare hands reaching toward it represent desire, curiosity, and blindness to the possibility of future pain.

In my linocut self-portrait, I reflect on my own journey of exploring Mexico, developing my art, and shifting my perspective. I wear glasses in an effort to see more clearly and hold Churro, our cross-eyed resident cat, with empathy for those (myself included) who do not always see the world with perfect clarity. I wear a broken halo to acknowledge my imperfections.

The many other collages, paintings, and prints on display share recurring themes of shape, vision, and perspective. Ultimately, this exhibit invites viewers to consider the depth and meaning that can emerge from a single recurring form. The intersection of math, science, nature, and spirituality reveals the lens not merely as a shape, nor solely as a way of seeing, but as a symbol of interconnectedness.