My work explores environmental loss, the multiple histories of American land, and mothering amid ecological collapse. Having recently moved my family from our home in New Orleans, one of the fastest disappearing land masses in the world, I’m compelled to hang on to what I hope remains while highlighting the systems that have failed us.

In search of remedy and connection, I work with scientists, communities, and handfuls of site-specific materials to uncover the history and natural relationships of a place and how they have been severed, altered, and suppressed through colonial disconnection. Informed by emergent strategy, critical ecology, and reparative history, my process centers on relational practices where I am most often a learner, facilitator, and connector.  Through this, I’m learning to read how other living beings (trees, microbes, clay) are also primary sources that record and affirm the same histories that are being erased in American schools, histories we must collectively understand and repair to correct course.

My process results in paintings, photographs, videos, and collages that highlight natural materiality and movement through fractal patterns—like white oak tree ink rooting through clay watercolor, crushed beach coal reanimating in seawater, or how centuries of a river’s flow is held in a tree. By shrinking geologic shifts to the size of myself, I’m trying to accept the inevitability and beauty of change while grappling with the world my children will live in without me. This impulse underpins my work, which uses attention and multiple ways of knowing to make sense of love and fear, resulting in a desperate archive of the overwhelming present-tense.