Artist Marie Bukowski's work is often deceptively simple, with linear, near-universal forms such as circles, ellipses, vessels, and leaves, as well as some forms posing as hieroglyphics. Arranged in sequences like the syntax of a secret language, or the poetic notations of an autistic architect, they appear amid vaporous mists of colour. Together they comprise something like a dream, or maybe the schematic of a dream. In my work, seemingly random forms are actually engaged in a dialogue with each other and also with the viewer. Their placement is conversational, where they can only be deciphered through imagination.
She uses these symbols as a means to search for an order, but not an order with specific systems and constraints. I look for an order that is true to depicting the experience. There is a systematic space in my work, but at the same time, an uncertainty within the space. The use of lines and planes accomplish this uncertainty; this type of framework depletes the very inference of the structure. She wants no measurable point related to these forms. Instead, they indicate constant flux. It is her ultimate goal to create a work of art that is not beautiful, but something that remains as a true experience as felt.