What I enjoy most about making these monotypes is the imperfect process and how it draws a direct connection to memory, one of the overarching areas of exploration with my work.
When I make these I apply much more paint or ink onto the matrix than what gets transferred to the paper surface. Nuances of color or certain areas of detail get lost when I press the plate to the paper, while other passages get translated imperfectly, altering the original image in unexpected ways. These spontaneous outcomes make each one truly unique.
There is a strong correlation between this process and the faultiness of memory. Our brains don't function like a recorded film when recalling a memory, it is not that seamless. Our experiences are recorded through a patchwork of individual slides that get strung together to form a whole picture or sequence. Since there are gaps between these single moments, information gets lost or altered when we recall an experience. I liken the act of recollection to the pressing of paper to the matrix. Each pressing will never turn out the same and the image is slightly or significantly altered each time.
What I find interesting is that every time you recall a memory your brain creates a new pathway to this information. Scientists still don't know where memories are imprinted or stored, and they don't understand how they move around the brain as we age.
Memory functions as the only filter between ourselves and life.