Front Gallery

Relative

Body and land, moved by the same forces.

Some works contain nudity and close studies of the human body.

Artist reflection

The series was first called My Body Is the Land I’m From. It began with the thought that our bodies may be the only land we can ever actually own, even if only temporarily before they change shape again. They are the one place we inhabit from the inside, and therefore something we are responsible for tending. I was also reckoning with years of body shame and dysmorphia. Seeing waistbands as sediment lines, stretch marks as bark, and skin as terrain gave me another way to look.

Over time the pairing became more literal to me. Body and land are both shaped by pressure, weather, history, use, repair, gravity, and time. The photographs place them beside one another as related material.

Relative: Wind. The body.
Relative: Wind. The land.
Wind
Relative: Insulation. The body.
Relative: Insulation. The land.
Insulation
Relative: Gravity. The body.
Relative: Gravity. The land.
Gravity
Relative: Striation. The body.
Relative: Striation. The land.
Striation
Relative: Ramification. The body.
Relative: Ramification. The land.
Ramification
Relative: Umbra. The body.
Relative: Umbra. The land.
Umbra
Relative: Occlusion. The body.
Relative: Occlusion. The land.
Occlusion

Garden

This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils

A cycle imposed and inhabited at the same time.

Artist reflection

I came to Persephone as a way to think about power inside a cycle that cannot simply be escaped. Her movement between worlds is imposed and inhabited at the same time. That led to an exploration of what it might look like to find agency within circumstances we cannot fully control.

The phrase “powerful and powerless” gave me a way to stay inside the tension without resolving it into victimhood or triumph.

“(Persephone) was winter, she was spring. When she ascended, the world awoke. When she descended, it lamented. She left; she returned. One year. Fifty. Five hundred. Forever. Powerful and powerless was she.” — Pádraig Ó Tuama, In a Garden by a Gate

This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils: Hades. Digital collage.
HadesDigital collage
This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils: This Is My Body. Photograph.
This Is My BodyPhotograph
This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils: The Fall. Photograph.
The FallPhotograph
This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils: Take and Eat. Photograph.
Take and EatPhotograph
This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils: Shadow Queen. Photograph.
Shadow QueenPhotograph
This Morning I Was Gathering Daffodils: The Return. Digital collage.
The ReturnDigital collage

Garden

Fear Not

Fear is present; the body moves anyway.

Artist reflection

Fear Not began with Lilith and Eve. I kept coming back to the old warning that ruin awaits the woman who opens her own eyes.

In these photographs curiosity is something the body does: reaching, tasting, looking, and letting what I see change me. The body moves through fear into knowing.

Fear Not, 1 of 6. Standing in dark vines at night, both hands covering the face.
Fear Not, 2 of 6. Back turned, looking over the shoulder toward the camera, vines at the waist.
Fear Not, 3 of 6. Deep in the night vines, eyes closed, face and shoulders blurred in warm light, honeysuckle above.
Fear Not, 4 of 6. Biting a green apple among the vines, eyes raised, one hand low against the body.
Fear Not, 5 of 6. Close, deep in the vines, an arm raised over the bowed head, a hand in the foreground holding a small snake.
Fear Not, 6 of 6. A close portrait among the leaves, a direct gaze, a metal serpent necklace at the throat.

Garden

Taste and See

The body can be seen and still be allowed to want.

Artist reflection

The first images began with Venus imagery and the long visual history of arranging feminine beauty for a viewer. Appetite gradually moved to the center of the work.

Honey, flowers, anointing, pleasure, and excess let the body become an experiencing subject. Beauty could include hunger. The body could be seen and still be allowed to want.

Taste and See, 1 of 5. Close crop of a closed eye; honey runs over the lid and a drop hangs from the lashes, a small white flower at the brow.
Taste and See, 2 of 5. Head bowed, eyes closed, honey running from the forehead over the eyes, nose and lips; white flowers in the honey, a pearl necklace.
Taste and See, 3 of 5. Head tipped back in hard sun, a flower over one eye, mascara smudged beneath the other, honey running down the cheek like tears.
Taste and See, 4 of 5. Facing the camera with a direct gaze, the face covered in honey and petals, a pearl necklace.
Taste and See, 5 of 5. Close crop of an open eye with a gold iris, honey and petals around it.

Grotto

A Miscarriage

Witnessing myself inside an experience I could barely understand.

This work documents a miscarriage as it happened.

Artist reflection

At the time, I was documenting a real miscarriage as it was happening. I was not thinking about portals or interrupted becoming. I was trying to witness myself inside an experience I could barely understand while I was living it.

The camera gave me a small amount of distance. I think part of that distance was protective: I could be the person in the experience and, for moments, also the observer of it. Much of what I now understand about the work came years later.

A Miscarriage, Stay.
Stay
A Miscarriage, Tear.
Tear
A Miscarriage, Follicle, Portal, Drain.
Follicle, Portal, Drain
A Miscarriage, Slide.
Slide
A Miscarriage, Drift.
Drift
A Miscarriage, Pass.
Pass
A Miscarriage, Want.
Want
A Miscarriage, Left.
Left

Grotto

Phase

Not “I am hopelessness,” but “I am experiencing hopelessness.”

Artist reflection

These images began as synesthetic translations of emotional states experienced during the winter of 2024. For much of my life, an emotional state could feel total: not I feel hopeless, but I am hopelessness.

This series marks a shift toward distance without disavowal: I am experiencing hopelessness. The photographs stay with the unstable interval where one state has loosened and another has not yet become recognizable. Winter keeps only what survives the cold.

Phase. Six self-portraits in a grid of two rows of three, moving from a direct, still gaze through blurred motion and an open red mouth, to a face dissolved and erased, ending in profile, turned away.

Rear Gallery

Threshold

Transformation has begun but cannot yet be named.

Artist reflection

Threshold began with the feeling of being between lives: no longer inside the former shape, not yet able to see the next one clearly. I wanted to stay with that middle long enough to see what it actually felt like.

As I worked, anatomy began behaving like architecture. Folds became passages, openings became rooms, and the body became a spatial boundary that could be approached from either side.

Threshold, pair 01, image A.
Threshold, pair 01, image B.
Threshold, pair 02, image A.
Threshold, pair 02, image B.
Threshold, pair 03, image A.
Threshold, pair 03, image B.