SZ: Tell us something about the journey of this print, where did the forms and texture come from?

OO: My first instinct for this print, and perhaps many of my prints, has stemmed from the thought, “how can I incorporate some sort of large circle or some kind of natural curve into this work?”. I mentioned earlier in this process my obsession with the moon which may have something to do with that. My next thought was of cracked earth and wanting to pull an image from that intricate and delicately expansive visual. I thought about how we think of drought as so devastating and yet, the result is something so fascinating to look at-to observe the separation of one thing from itself. But the reality of it all, as I sat and traced images of cracked earth, is that few things that come from my hand translate to a visual rigidness or sharpness. The traces soften to the reality of the rigidness and that’s how we ended up with these gentle fractures that I continued to reiterate throughout the piece. We tested many components and visuals for what this print would be but the soft fractures were the first thing we experimented in printing and sure enough the one that stuck.

SZ: This whole experience was abstract in a way, with the action of your movements one step removed. What is your relationship to abstraction? Do you see your artwork being abstract?

OO: I started off a lot of my relationship to creativity with poetry, word and form. To some poetry is this really abstracted way of saying something that can be plainly said. What I’ve understood poetry to be, especially in my adult life, is the expression of a feeling in its simplest form, the fewest words, the closest way you can share a feeling cerebrally, if done well. And so I think I simply transferred that concept to my visual work, but there is something about visual work that occurs very subconsciously. I’m not always aware why I move my hand in a certain way, create marks just such, or even gravitate towards circles, but I believe in hand intelligence and that connection to the brain and eyes. Time and time again I look at my work once it is complete and feel what I’ve truly been stressing about or holding in for the last, week, month, or years. So yes, my work is abstract in the sense that it is rarely visually representative of something you’ll see out in the world, but I see it as a very clear and concentrated representation/vision of my feelings.

SZ: I remember you doing your first print in the class we led, and saying you don’t move in images, but flash forward a few years, you have a very clear image library that you are creating. How has this informed your written work, and vise versa?

OO: When I was in school, maybe because I was forced to or because I was just in a different space I was constantly moving between both mediums and the two would influence each other. Text has always played a larger role in the inspirations for my visual pieces. Lately, I write very little. My poems are few and far between and I’m not entirely sure why. It really might be that I have feelings and ideas that I’m currently not ready to tackle because writing can be pretty confrontational or that I’m just afraid of writing bad poems and I can be pretty hard on myself (it’s the Capricorn) but maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle of those 2 possibilities or not. Text is still incredibly potent inspiration for my work, I just produce less of my own at the moment.

SZ: We think of this a lot, that the impending reality of navigating digital time will erase our memory, by ways of abstracting our tactile senses. Digital haptics will be an abstract experience. How has this process, being away from the hands-on approach been for you? What have been the challenges and surprises?

OO: The erasure of memory is a fascinating but even more terrifying thought. I’m used to working with my hands, building prints layer by layer while simultaneously organizing composition in present time, and at times failing in present time, but it’s all very much immediate and personal. This process pushed me to think in reverse, plan a whole print instead of improvise. I was able to take a step back and see test after test, push my imagination of what I could envision this print to be. Instead of speed I got patience, instead of instinct I dealt with questions and commitment. I was able to explore and also still felt completely connected to the process from beginning to end. I learned a great amount about my practice and process and I was able to use new materials I wouldn’t normally have access to such as, UV varnishes which ended up being a beautiful and fun surprise.