hopscotch

2003 (and 2007)

I loved hopscotch as a kid. The simple shapes, the rhythm of movement, the way chalk and play could turn concrete into a map. Later, in grad school, I discovered Rayuela (Hopscotch) by Julio Cortázar—and it blew my mind. For five years, I wandered through his books, writing a strange, nonlinear chronicle of the journey. That project would become Living Invention (never published, but you can read it here).

This painting series came out of all of that. Some are just joy—bright blocks, playful marks, childhood memory rendered in housepaint. Others are messier, layered with collage, wires, tarot cards, words, fragments, directives. Maybe I was trying to turn these visual paths into something you could walk through. Or maybe I just liked how hopscotch offered a shape that felt open-ended, like it could lead anywhere.