I wanted to make a creature that was perhaps the least likely candidate to evoke any sort of empathy from a viewer. Insects can be beautiful, though they're generally maligned or feared. Cockroaches are survivors. They've pre-existed us and will outlast us all. It's probably precisely that knowledge that causes us to shudder in their presence.
This sculpture was immensely challenging. A bug's body is complex (needed reverse engineering at times). Its face is unfathomably alien. I loved/loathed every moment of making this piece because there was not a single instance in the months-long ordeal that happened with ease, comfort, repetition, or certainty. Nothing fell into place. I worked for every inch of this hideous beast. And I've never grown more. It's hard to will yourself to make the pieces that you need the most.
Empathy is the thing we need for that which is most unfamiliar or the most disquieting. Working through that which causes discomfort is, in some ways, the project of empathy. By the time this piece was finished, I'd developed a sense of empathy for insects. I'll eventually return to their form. But I'm not ready just yet.
