Simply complete the form below, and be sure to include your mobile number so you can vote via text. To activate your votes, check in at the Welcome Center at 133-A East Main Street during the festival.
Login to your account to vote for the People's Choice Awards. When casting your votes, remember you may vote for as many pieces of artwork as you like, but you're only allowed one vote per artwork.
Please vote for your favorite artists as you enjoy your time at ArtFields. Your vote could help an artist win a share of over $120,000 in cash prizes!
Streamline the voting process by pre-registering now. Simply complete the form to the right, and be sure to include your mobile number so you can utilize our convenient text-to-vote option. To activate your registration, simply stop by the Welcome Center, at the start of the event to check in and start voting!
ArtFields will award $120,000 in prize money during our April 21 - 29, 2017 art competition and festival in Lake City, South Carolina. Accepted artists are invited to exhibit their work in one of the historic downtown Lake City venues for nine days. Venues include everything from a former mercantile to an historic barbershop. Our nontraditional setting makes for an unforgettable experience. Winners are determined by popular choice and juried panel. Cast your vote by joining us in Lake City!
In February of 2013, I lost both my mother and father two weeks apart from each other to smoking-related cancers. It was a devastating time in my life, but I channeled my grief into the conceptual ideas of my work. Cancer is a disease that is a perfectly structured killer; it is beautiful in its architecture but grotesque in its eventuality. I began to think about nostalgia, longing for a childhood I never had, and parents that I needed. My recent work is an exploration of the escapisms I used as a child to escape my everyday reality. I repurpose retro-pop culture VHS from my childhood to re-envision the movies and fiction that became my surrogate parents and allowed me to find order from my chaos, beauty from destruction, and hope for more joyous times.
At the intersection between generations, things are lost. Domestic items lose their potency in daily life, and rarely are objects created, manufactured, or bought with intentions to spend a quality amount of time with them, care for them, and pass them along to younger generations. The work I create is a reaction to this reality. Contemporary society is consumed with disposability, and people are no longer connected to the objects that aid in their sustenance. Making objects formed with touch, labor, and time, imbued with value and worth counterpoints this disposability—the objects I create patiently wait to be discovered and enjoyed, retained, and later passed on to others.
In 2014, my wife spent nine months in West Africa on the front lines of the Ebola response. She lead a surveillance team trying to identify “contacts,” who are persons who may have come into contact with an infected person. The man in this painting was among these “contacts.” He and several others from a small village in rural Sierra Leone had direct contact with a boy who became infected with Ebola and died. He knew the boy since his birth and wrapped the boy’s body before burial. This is the moment when he learned that his act of love and respect put him in danger of Ebola. This is the moment when he learned that he was now a “contact,” and for the next 21 days, a stranger would visit him each day to look for signs of the disease that had already killed thousands in his country. This is Contact Tracing and one of the most critical elements to stem the tide of an epidemic.
I build worlds from the most common and least known material: paper. The ritual of hand papermaking is ancient, scientific, and rhythmic. I merge this science with the unknown by air-drying my pieces: the paper shrinks, twists and cockles, forming three-dimensional shapes more subtle than I could design. My paper forms revert to their botanical origins; I make plants from plants. Oversized and immersive, diminutive and whimsical, my pieces dilate the natural world and bring it inside.