Artprize 2026 Artist Statements

instagram collection @edelliottsculpture

stain and ash rubbed basswood, glass beads and gold wire 

she is me, i am her...i worked damn hard  and long for this becoming. 

my first ever wood carving finds me clawing my way out of the center of the mountain. forget climbing, i've never been one to entertain a typical route. every experience, happy and healthy or healing the hard, leaves a mark. here those long lived moments are represented in color, shape and size by glass beads connected and wound with my ever present divine connection (aka gold wire) spun, knotted and wrapped in a promise of constant connection and support. 

bursting from the top of the mountain, with shards of wood surrounding... touched in color and wearing every moment of this life. smeared in stain and ash, my chiseled form stands proud and ready. stronger, more exposed and more beautiful, by every event, experience and engagement. i certainly didn't appreciate them all in the moment but purpose is that way... not a chance i am standing here strong in self without every single mark.

instagram collection @healinginarts

paper, ink, fiber, glass beads and a button 

the tribute to one beautiful afternoon when i stood with my kid in the tragedy that was a restorative sea of red jeans. 

in my version, one side is a long removed reaction to my own past. the other, the unsettling and immediate feeling that accompanied devastatingly harsh reality. the contradiction of standing in the sweet afternoon sun, processing what it felt to be fully submerged in "us". 

the shift of weight that comes with confronting the hard truth that my tragedy was in no way just mine.....and the even more disgusting way that some of "us" were so horrifically small. 

this ends here because it will always be tender and the story will always stay mine.

with the most of all special thanks to healing in arts for the allowance to experience their process my way and the blessing to include my own red jean redemption in my artprize 2026 installation.

instagram collection @darrellwakelam

papers, ink, wire and beads

tragic loss and the way every time it haunts i look it in the face until something shifts. 

never in this life have i questioned the validity or beauty of what comes after this one, i have always "just known". it was only in the deepest sadness and suddenness of the most jarring grief i've known, that certainty became cloudy or a bit unsure. at the time when i most needed that unwavering confidence that always came so naturally, it was gone....until it wasn't.

down to earth is multi faceted healing. a story of re-connection by way of seeing what's always been right in front of me, gifted through nature, her rhythms and divine proof. following sight, came the reclaiming of faith as simple and swift as doubt landed. certainty, recognition, awareness returned in an instant; in the form of a clear understanding that this wasn't a case of gaining it back. the actuality being, it was always there waiting for my capacity to hold it again.

down to earth is familiarity and confirmation of continuity that could only come one way. the undeniable promise that what we are receiving is indeed exactly what we believe it to be. loss is physical but presence is continuity and in no way confined to dimension, belief or experience. what we feel we have lost, what we miss, what we love is very much still here with us, the question lies in our capacity and gifting ourselves permission to see. only when we are ready, will we experience what feels so far away come back down to earth. for me, that goes a little something like "the eagle has landed".

instagram collection @colosso.art

hand made papers, oil pastel, and plastic ants

for her there was faith. the only fear was the physical. when my mom died the only thing that really scared her was her body being buried with bugs. gratefully, cremation is an option she was comfortable with so her fear was relieved. but what she really-really wanted...was to "be a tree".

having died during covid shut down we waited to safely celebrate her life. almost two years after her death, we hosted a wonderful celebration which included planting a tree in her honor, blessing it with prayer and her ashes, on our church grounds. she got to "be a tree". 

i often go back to the way that last wish also found her confronting that final fear and winning. trees are buried and there are bugs. she did it. the amazing gift that is life and that which comes after allowing us to show up for ourselves and tackle the fears and the hurdles, realizing every single thing we want to be.

she was everything and i was always proud of her. to be able to give her exactly what she wanted and watch her grow in a beautiful new form, in our holy place, was an enormous privilege and far more healing than i could have ever imagined. it is so perfectly her to still be creating opportunity for me to grow in love and support through her experience with that which comes after and it's not lost on me for a minute. thanks, mom. i love you. amen.

hand made paper, fiber, oil pastel, and beach glass

i grew up in a beautiful place that people flocked to for vacation. the lakefront that felt more like an ocean shore except on the days that were so clear you could see the majesty of the windy city across the water. 

i recall childhood on my lake shore with stars in my eyes. it was a special and magical place. from may to october we spent our days and nights on the beach. winters found us knee deep in lake effect snow sledding hills and hearing the rough angry cold waters rage from the hill top. block parties, beach parties, biking to the beach to collect rocks and glass any time we wanted made memories so special i can close my eyes and be right back there feeling the magic of "then". 

i will celebrate those years and my home every chance i get. lovely words like special and charmed don't do it justice but written language never could....so i am sharing it in color.

papers, wire, fiber and beads

connection, depth and excessive empathy are among my most valued gifts, mostly....but there is always "that one time". 

people catch fish all - the - time. they feed their families, find peace and relax in the practice. i, however, am not people, not even a little bit close.

my leap into vegetarianism when i was 15 is a much longer story but it was a long time coming, deeply conscious decision and came from a legitimate need to lighten my heart load. i was never confused, never in question and so many experiences followed in my life that found me more committed than any day before. this was one, a big one.

i grew up on a big lake. fishing was something i had experienced in youth, none-the-less it had been almost two decades until that day. in the mix with avid and serious lake fisherman i was invited to catch a fish. i declined but then when asked again caved, it was one fish, i could do it and throw it back..so i thought.

i did indeed catch a fish and she was a big and beautiful one. no chance the boys on that boat were close to considering my ask to give her back. i argued my point to deaf ears and spent the following moments listening to her flip and flop in a cooler until she expired...a long-slow suffocating death.

they ate her, no waste, but i killed her....and she suffered. this was not a case of "doing the right thing'. had i never lowered the hook she would have lived her life until she didn't but i did and i'm forever so sorry.

when i recount the story i am right there. i can hear her and feel myself sinking into the realization of what i had done and the way i had absolutely no control of the outcome...a clear lesson of consequence. i will spend forever feeling sorry i pulled that beauty right out of her life into the cooler with the rest. i will also spend forever learning and honoring that sacrifice and the way it impacted us both. 

certainly many people will roll their eyes at this and feel it dramatic. all i have to say to that is - i didn't ask - and feeling is a hell of a thing that, for some of us, makes forgetting impossible.

paper and quilling strips

so much about sisters and it's not all mine so this will be veiled and brief at best. 

blended families before that was a mainstream term at a time when a generation didn't much talk about complicated or choose to confront and clarify. so much lives under a rug. i was never going to leave it there, there's far more purpose than that. different paths, priorities and approaches in even the hardest fought family love, time and proximity don't always make magic and two way streets don't necessarily share a destination. life lived in love at distance is sometimes as good as it gets.

hand made paper, glass beads and a wood ruler

the way that these days it's confidently referred to as superpower. although it always has been, it took a minute for the world to catch on. 

the best and worst of growth for me was found with stinging self awareness and the way it grew and shifted into hyper vigilance and the constant need for control in all aspects of life and movement. 

'flowers are red' by harry chapin is the theme song of my life. this art piece is that little art kid finally seeing the flowers for what they actually are..long after self acceptance sunk in, finally finding me knee deep in self-love. 

the flowers are all roses in varying degrees of red with stems excessive in width and leaves. the flowers hang "dangling" in the wide open vulnerability, suffocating in the openness of air, from a ruler...the straight and firm concrete expectation. the flowers are similar at first glance but given a second to actually see, they are all quite different. there is no typical, equal system or rhythm to spacing or length...they are all "just a little off". not miles,  just enough that you can tell...enough that it tugs.

this is the story of my life and it was hard until it wasn't. that one day i decided it was fine to admit i never really *wanted to be like the others was a gift with a magnitude and allowance i could have never imagined and i now appreciate each and every day. 

visually, this makes me crazy and that it exists at all is proof of so much growth, i couldn't possibly over-exaggerate it. this is me...clapping for myself, bragging out-loud and finally admitting the long list of things i'm great at and that beats the hell out of the fist full of faults i wore, front and center, as i dragged them around everywhere and always...until i didn't.

self-love means something different to  everyone. wonky flowers, with way too many leaves, free floating however they move, an eyesore against the expectations, measure and standards in so many variations of one singular bully color....that's self love according to me. complicated and a little all over the place. i could unpack this for years, instead i gave it a yard. low and behold that was perfectly perfect, just -exactly- enough.

paper, watercolor and vinyl numbers

long before i was old enough to hold memory, i had surety. a confidence, a natural knowing that didn't really make sense. my favorite story and the one my mom always loved to tell is one that I was too young to personally remember but she would never forget. 

living along the lake front meant for regular and heavy lake effect snow. one early - in - life christmas eve, as we headed to church, the snow was serious and the drive felt very dangerous for her. my mom, driving alone with two young children, was focused and nervous, apparently i easily picked that up...not just nervous but scared. in my ever nurturing and knowing way, i consoled her promising there was no need to worry, we would make it just fine, god was with us. and so we did.

i understood very early that this tendency to notice things was something i had but other people didn't. it mostly came as a feeling or a knowing. there weren't voices, visions or dreams - I just "knew". i also learned quickly that it wasn't exactly something others wanted to hear about. there is a tendency towards fear and disbelief for things not understood, that was clear, so i kept it quietly. as i grew, learned, and understood...confidence came along with the clarity that this was a gift and a tool. i feel ever grateful for the connection, I have for a very long time, it has served me well.

i remember in middle school when all the kids made the oragami fortune tellers. it was a big deal and he would probably end up being your boyfriend if the folded paper said so....especially if there were only variations of yes under the flaps. kids loved and believed them and i took comfort in that a little as i quietly held tight to all of my "feelings" when i was still learning and organizing what it all meant ....that maybe, because they were ok with the paper promises, i wasn't as weird as i felt. 

long story short, this is all about the great gratitude i have for the way folded paper comforted me too - maybe not by predicting which boyfriends would be worth it but more importantly a self acceptance by way of gentle self talk. there it was the planted seed that maybe one day i would talk out loud about the way knowing comes to me and it wouldn't necessarily make me the weird one. just like that, here we are and i am far past worrying about being the weird kid , i am and so much love her. i have lived a long life of seeing and knowing which has served me so well, i wouldn't trade it for anything. 

none-the-less, ever considerate, going to all the great lengths to keep people comfortable but mostly in humor, nostalgia and fun... i chose to talk about this -out loud- accompanied by the old tried and true method of asking and knowing that adorably the world finds far less threatening and trusts. 

ps. the paper used for this project came from a tissue paper painting art workshop i hosted for a migrant high school summer art camp two years ago at a local college. the sheets were my examples. we discussed self portrait and representing self in art in unique and unexpected ways. the paper is an illustrated auto biography.

paper, ink, water color and wood

disclaimer : this flower grew leaves after this image was taken.

here she is again in all of her sweetness and support. my mom loved my art, she was so proud. so many pieces have been created in my process and her honor since she died and this is especially lovely in material and meaning. 

written on the paper is a poem about presence after passing. the words are lovely, not mine but they speak beautifully to everything i feel and have experienced since she left. it was a gift from the algorithms I've researched to no avail and can't credit the author but I can honor them and their beautiful, loving and honest words as anonymous author.

her end was hard and sad, passing was peace and relief. i carved the wood peace sign from a scrap left after i chiseled "origins of piece" from the block mountain. using a piece of that wood to create for my mom couldn't have been more perfect. i was her spitting image, we were very much one and the same.

there is a long and tragic story about how i was unable to hold her while she died, loving her at a distance, despite our constant closeness and logistical proximity. that threatened to ruin me - for about 9 hours....then clarity in understanding and confirmation came by way of touch through child to mother. she was always there, there was no place for question or doubt...i should have known but the immediacy and swell of grief made it cloudy, she showed me just to be sure. no matter that we couldn't see her, that she may have felt gone in the moments of deep sadness she is very much there, able able and present with her gentle affection and strong definite support, even still. gifts from heaven, love eternal, promises what feels over isn't always the end.

cardboard, book pages, ink, wire, fiber, acrylic marker and glass beads

disclaimer : the title on the chalkboards has changed from iridescent sticker to chalk since it was photographed.

big fan of books, huge. steven king is, hands down, one of my favorite all time authors and "holly gibney" is my literary sister. i often find myself so attached and invested in a well written story and it's characters, it requires a process through sadness when it's over. this one, however, is different. this one is pure pride and celebration of quirky and smart. i resonated with holly immediately, loved her right away and then came "holly hope"...there was a name for her magic.

my silver lining is automatic and bright, resilience firm, advocacy hyper focused and expression  hilariously un-filtered  - often to a fault. paying tribute to my girl by way of a mobile, puzzle pieces treated with pages from my own marked up copy of mr. mercedes, highlighted by favorite holly moments and exchanges, with chalk board paper and carefully outlined by rhythmical fibers with texture - dark and mysterious, felt perfect. 

holly's adventures are represented with cardboard puzzle pieces. as holly, typically to steven's best characters, is beautifully placed in other stories with purpose, this too is represented by the gold wire and glass beads....the way we are connected to others and shared experiences lave marks. 

in placement, the puzzle pieces make the word hope a bit elusive. although it is always there it is sometimes hard to decipher behind the rows of experience/puzzle pieces, depending on how they move or spin. numerology, system and clear and precise organization are primary focal points as the pieces dangle and spin, in order, within the cloud of hope.

the choice to replace the sticker with chalk is a nod to the old investigator stories our beloved  bill hodges. technology can be so offensive.

paper, quilling strips and a glass bead

it's all about the way being fully seen allows for deep authentic connections. and after a long, hard, murky, yet rewarding, healing process... honest expression and expectation became a catalyst for self discovery and heart centered actualization like i never dared imagine. especially since he almost blew it.

in safety comes confidence, faith, creativity and allowance. in divine union there is magic. the way i knew him so far long before i met him and when i was standing right there so close in touch he not only saw me, he knew me right back. 

this was the immediate connection that never needed walls or guards. this was the safety we could feel and running full speed in to life so meaningful and strong that the heavy weight coming from every direction felt like nothing. this is what it feels like to have no question and be right.

the proclamation was honest, relieved and totally enamored..."you disarm me". the response was a long glorious melt into the warmth and safety of years that understood. the ability to see with clear vision what had actually just begun. 

there is no stronger weapon than the promise of love, care and protection for as long as the wheel turns.

paper, wire and glass beads

still waters run deeeeeep. astrology has always been my thing, always. that I am governed by the moon, born under the sign of cancer, every single jenn-ism should come as zero surprise. loyalty, intuition, protection, sensitivity, empathy, advocacy, silent strength and the kind of perseverance that finds plans and ideas still rolling at the end of the earth. 

my colors are cool. water is elemental magic, mother ocean, sea, lake, river or puddle have the immediate ability to calm my chaos and save my life. i could gush this beauty forever. she is all the best parts of me and the way in all of my curiosities, understanding, feeling the reflection and intuitive communication has always come in crystal clear clarity. the ability to see, know and love far past what's  performed or presented is the gift that allows me to accept, appreciate and admire. it is the same curse that finds me knowing better, even still stepping to the challenges even if being the only one that can see why it's worth it....sticking with the hard long after it's over. it bites for sure.

family is everything but not defined by the simple rules of bloodline. the shield and defense are always on high alert, the side step is fast, confident and firm in protection and oh those claws. however, patience is a virtue and peace a priority. it may take a lot but once it's earned threat is met with a sure, deliberate and tough-in-principled poetic justice. 

a beautiful and vulnerable soft under belly, armored by the studied, creative and unfiltered hard outer shell. ever prepared to clearly demonstrate the distinction between softness and weakness in any experience that necessitates the lesson. protecting life, love and others above all... never once counting the cost.

culture collection : mexico

special thanks @colosso.art

papers, quilling strips, fibers, fringe, glass beads, plastics and ribbon.

pride and joy, hopes and dreams, every ounce of my love heart went in to this. i have never been more proud of anything except the one this represents. as part of the culture collection, all of which are celebrations of family heritage, the pinata star is enormously important and was so lovingly made.

to have the opportunity to learn and love the mexican culture as our own has been the privilege of a lifetime, one i couldn't possibly overstate. this gets pretty personal so i won't say much but to have direct family connections to such a beautifully rich and incredible people, history and country is something we will honor, value and celebrate always.

very special thanks to colosso.art (brilliant 2/3d mexican artist) for the cultural consult and title suggestion. i could not be more grateful for the support and input.

my only tug, which is more of a regret, is that the pinata is empty. there is no candy or sweetness inside. we have had pinatas at many of our family celebrations but this one is special and we will hang and keep it safely intact long after artprize ends.

culture collection : poland

cardboard eggs, cardstock, fibers, glass and beads

i grew up completely submerged in my polish family and heritage, it was glorious. the traditions and culture were ever present and rich in pride and connection. in addition i also have strong military roots... both my dad and granddad were enlisted in the army and the long legacy of active helpers doesn't end there.

my grandad was a polish interpreter for the army during WWII. i was absolutely going to find a way to honor him directly in the grounded peace installation. my love for culture and family, the pride i feel for who they are and where i come from every single thing he fought for (and against) is central to every each element of grounded peace. understanding, honoring and appreciating who we are as a family of helpers is why, after all there was to confront in this life experience, that i now stand firmly, on two feet, at the top of the mountain.

the eggs are a loose nod to the polish culture made my way, "pisanki". the medallion is my version, of an army translator/interpreter crest i found. i took the symbolism and made it my own with specialty papers. the eggs and medallion hang from a mobile (the image was shot prior to assembly). the title "pomagier" is polish for helper. i tear up in pride and gratitude every time i sit with it.

culture collection : germany

carboard and cardstock

here it goes...last but in no way, ever, the least. oh to have a strong german bloodline.....proud and consistent. the all inclusive family tree in our house was front and center, so very highly regarded. original immigration documents adorned the walls and the recorded history of family by way of glass christmas tree ornaments, ensured our legacy generations removed were equally celebrated - by full name. it is touching and amazing. pets often found their namesake in our family tree and no one had to be taught because knowing who and where we came from was the minimum standard, with supportive heirlooms on display for every single story. 

in my beautifully typical way lines crossed and my first (and second) professional illustration projects were children's books. not just any children's books, bi-lingual, english and deutsch children's books. i don't believe in coincidence, not even a little, and that this opportunity found me was a gift beyond measure to my artistic adventure and my family experience. alle butcher (all the books) was absolutely going to be the grand finale of the artprize 2026 installation gush, without question. 

to honor my paternal family with art in children's literature is such a beautifully deep meaning recognition, i could connect dots for years. in addition, that the books have an educational element to them is so far beyond chance. then there is the way i am gifted the fortune of creating with such a gifted, inspired and tender heart has been -by far- one of my favorite teams to play on. 

mary louise kelly children's literature, her stories, her experience and who she is as a person has brought such joy to the world, my own art and life experience and i could not feel more grateful to be a part of her work and mission to bring kind and educational stories to children. the multi faceted meaning of this little book of books is drenched in gratitude, culture, family, education, love and sharing. to end this artprize 2026 (hands down my best yet) art experience on a team note is the only way i could come close to doing the experience justice.