Through my work, I process the unusual and mundane elements of daily life. I create as a way of affirming that I’m both here and elsewhere, all the time. I work intuitively, a practice born from my curiosity of what this approach can bring to the surface. Drawing and writing are a way of making mental processes physical—while hands are occupied, unconscious thoughts can emerge and be recorded through shape, words, or symbols. In my textiles, I combine quick sketches, memories, and automatic writing to capture moments of transition. My textiles are made to be touched and altered; they are as malleable as words, bodies, and memories.

My work is imbued with folklore; I see recurring symbols and stories as integral to understanding human history and sustaining the spirit. Increasingly my practice fixates on spiritual survival. Even if our bodies survive each passing year, how do our spirits remain intact? As the world becomes increasingly inhospitable to many forms of life, largely because of human impact, I create work that gathers stories from plants, dreams, mystery, non-humans, and the sensual world as a way of processing our knotted relationships and histories.

Both chance and control are important to my work—working with dyes and plants can be unruly, while quilting and piece-work is more slow and structured. I make systems for organizing the mysterious and unknowable, as a way of getting closer to what I know I’ll never
understand.