Zip ties were invented in 1958 to bundle together wires on airplanes. They are still used on airplanes today that travel faster than 500 miles per hour and fly at over 35,000 feet.
My work investigates themes of personal history, shared history, and questioning material, and is definitely not concerned with airplanes or electrical wiring harnesses. However, the use of the zip tie has grown to include everything from attaching orange plastic mesh to wooden 2x4s cast in buckets of concrete to act as a barrier surrounding a messy construction site, to holding my fathers rickety lawnmower bag from falling off of its frame. They are even used as handcuffs and studs on bicycle tires. The resourceful style of thinking that has turned something simple into much more than what it was originally intended for is what I am transfixed by.
This, and the fact that there is always a way to force two or more unlikely materials together to create a functioning whole influence me to make what I do. Against odds of a materials chemical makeup, engineering and science come together to create a glue, a screw, a nut and bolt, or a tie to affix: wood to metal, metal to concrete, plastic to paper, glass to plastic, rubber to nylon. That is how we build our lives and what our lives are built from.
In my work I choose to have a hand-made quality, or do-it-yourself-ness that reflects the way civilizations often construct things, solve problems and fix things with what is readily available and cheap. I grew up around the ultimate handyman way of life and let this guide many of the decisions I make in constructing my work. And although the zip tie may not be the finest quick fix solution for a technical problem that pops into a jack-of-all-trades head, nor is it always an aesthetically pleasing fastener for the typical creative maker, it is one of mine.