artist's statement

Rivers are made by water cleaving paths through the silt, foraging intricate paths in the areas of the least resistance. Each season, through the bizarre weather and the droughts of an ever warming climate, despite industry corrupting the waterways and disrupting the growth- the rivers find their path. I grew up in a town with a raging river at its core; my only choice was to learn the ways of the water; the juxtaposition of soft swells and tumultuous falls. In my youth I spent all my free time stuffing my pockets with pebbles, making wishbones out of pine needles, digging up dirt, and keeping my eyes on the trees. I was learning how to run like the rivers, reach out like the trees, and whisper my name into each flower petal. Unfortunately, I was also made aware of the real world- finances, education, and working yourself to the bone. It seemed equally unnatural and devastating to me. I remember sitting in a Chili’s in my hometown, telling my mother that if nobody would pay me to make art I would become an art history professor. I remember being dead set on becoming a singer, fashion designer, painter, or interior designer. I’d splice my time outside with drafting shoe concepts on a tiny Project Runway projector, illustrating books about honey bees, or taking trips to the hardware store for free samples. These activities turned out to be mere creeks compared to the river I would unearth in 2014. I’d received my first film camera, a little ‘65 Minolta SRT 101, that my dad taught me to load in an old motel. Shooting film taught me to slow down and focus on what I could control in my small hands. Since then, I have discovered a passion for a multitude of artistic mediums and creative outlets, however, my soul has a special home for the power that ’65 wonder gave me. This has created a constant current in my body’s river, a never ending flow of street photography and subjective documentary work. Even in times of drought, when I had to fight for the creative juices to flow, I always make it out to observe the world around me. This aspect of my work is most inspired by Phillip -Lorca DiCorcia, Stephen Shore, and Gregory Crewdson. I find myself constantly fascinated by the way light kisses the world, the entropy of human existence, and the architecture of everyday life. I am engrossed in the way certain landscapes make me feel, even the dreary feelings of nostalgia for a life I have never lived. After years of daily shooting and practicing new techniques I have discovered my favorite things to create are not just one singular thing or concept. Rather, they are integral bodies in which the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. For a long time, the path of least resistance was art combining aspects of film and digital work, physical and digital visual art, and juxtaposing concepts. While attending Pacific Northwest College of Art, it seemed my breadth of work had become more adjacent to a delta rather than a river. I found myself exploring the role of the body (particularly a femme presenting one) in mixed media work, photography, and illustration. This path was forged as a way for me to express my feelings and fears surrounding having a chronic illness, as well as explore my relationship to my body as a queer person. Much of this work is self-portraiture and is inspired by the photography of Francesca Woodman. Of course, the Covid-19 pandemic also changed the shape of my practice and the firth of my work. In the first couple months photography was still very accessible to me, but a mix of burn-out and moving somewhere un-inspiring caused a brief hiatus in my creation. Desperate to create, I found myself making silly doodles and illustrations. Eventually, someone commissioned me for a tattoo design, getting me out of my slump. I remember the pride that came with knowing I’d designed art for 10 humans, the sense of making it that comes with each day of being an artist. I carry this joy with me from photography to poetry, fiber arts to illustration; may I be ever growing and changing with the seasons.