Before painting, I embed a pieced layer of fragments from my daily infrastructure such as lists, receipts, clippings, calendars and maps. On top, I make impressions in the encaustic paint’s warm skin using fabric netting. Then I look for the hundreds of pathways that are left to slowly refine and carve into the surface. I scrape through layers of color fields, excavating words and deeds, once important, that got buried in my race to the next thing. Patterns emerge and suggest a sonorous, calm hum rising out of the hectic daily buzz.