I have been making walking prints for years. They used to be framed and hung individually; then they were blankets; now they are becoming objects: encased in plexi, bound by rubber bands, sewn into, written onto, drawn around, cut, then mounted or leaning on metal or concrete supports. The prints are created by fastening photo paper to my shoes, then walking over the course of a day. The resulting image is a cumulative mark of time and place.
When my daughter was born in 2010, the ideal of undivided studio time was replaced by the reality of a constant fragmentation of energy and place. I felt that the identities of mother and artist were opposed; I had to be one or the other, depending on the circumstances. These images are a way to reconcile the identities of mother and artist, to show the continuance of the body between states.