My Mythical Existence
My practice frequently employs recognizable items as metaphors for the experience of being biracial. Dinosaurs are creatures that are scientifically proven to have existed, yet are culturally treated as a subject of debate or myth. I utilize this figure to articulate the dissonance of the mixed-race experience: a reality that is physically undeniable yet constantly questioned by a society obsessed with binary classification. Grounded in visibly chaotic environments, these figures navigate a geography that refuses to validate their presence.
My practice frequently employs recognizable items as metaphors for the experience of being biracial. Dinosaurs are creatures that are scientifically proven to have existed, yet are culturally treated as a subject of debate or myth. I utilize this figure to articulate the dissonance of the mixed-race experience: a reality that is physically undeniable yet constantly questioned by a society obsessed with binary classification. Grounded in visibly chaotic environments, these figures navigate a geography that refuses to validate their presence.
Isolation and In-Betweenness
In my assemblages, I often explore the concept of existing in liminal spaces. Figures mirror one another, connected by cords or tension-held wires that act as umbilical links. I am the "central bead"—the element that exists permanently between two poles, unable to fully merge with either. This visualizes the isolation of the "in-between," a state where the subject is visually connected to their origins yet fundamentally distinct from them.
In my assemblages, I often explore the concept of existing in liminal spaces. Figures mirror one another, connected by cords or tension-held wires that act as umbilical links. I am the "central bead"—the element that exists permanently between two poles, unable to fully merge with either. This visualizes the isolation of the "in-between," a state where the subject is visually connected to their origins yet fundamentally distinct from them.
Weaponized Nostalgia
I repurpose symbols of childhood innocence to critique the commodification of bodies. Here, stripping "My Little Ponies" of their nostalgia—dripping paint down their forms or placing them in makeshift cages—I reposition them as "workhorses." This shift references the forced labor of enslaved people and the modern continuation of that labor within the prison industrial complex, physically marring the innocence the object was meant to convey.
I repurpose symbols of childhood innocence to critique the commodification of bodies. Here, stripping "My Little Ponies" of their nostalgia—dripping paint down their forms or placing them in makeshift cages—I reposition them as "workhorses." This shift references the forced labor of enslaved people and the modern continuation of that labor within the prison industrial complex, physically marring the innocence the object was meant to convey.
Color and Space
I use high-visibility OSHA regulation colors to map internal conflict. By applying paint in opposing directions and utilizing contrasting, hyper-saturated hues, I create a visual friction that mirrors the duality of biracialism. This is a collision, representing the constant tension of embodying two opposing histories simultaneously within a single physical geography.
I use high-visibility OSHA regulation colors to map internal conflict. By applying paint in opposing directions and utilizing contrasting, hyper-saturated hues, I create a visual friction that mirrors the duality of biracialism. This is a collision, representing the constant tension of embodying two opposing histories simultaneously within a single physical geography.
Golden Affections
I frequently employ gold leaf to mask the faces of doll heads or figures, disguising their original texture. This is a direct reference to the historical description of Thomas Jefferson’s "golden affections" regarding Sally Hemings. By gilding these figures, I interrogate the double-edged sword of racial ambiguity: asking whether the body is being honored or defaced, and whether "golden" is a compliment or a fetishization of the exotic.
I frequently employ gold leaf to mask the faces of doll heads or figures, disguising their original texture. This is a direct reference to the historical description of Thomas Jefferson’s "golden affections" regarding Sally Hemings. By gilding these figures, I interrogate the double-edged sword of racial ambiguity: asking whether the body is being honored or defaced, and whether "golden" is a compliment or a fetishization of the exotic.
Mechanics of Duality
My process explores the methods by which distinct visual elements can be placed into unity. Continuous lines or planes are often disrupted by the introduction of a third element—such as a dowel wrapped in plush skin or a foreign object piercing the structure. This demonstrates that "blending" is not always a seamless transition; it is sometimes a rupture. The introduction of the third element renders the whole neither fully one thing nor the other, but a misfitting hybrid.
My process explores the methods by which distinct visual elements can be placed into unity. Continuous lines or planes are often disrupted by the introduction of a third element—such as a dowel wrapped in plush skin or a foreign object piercing the structure. This demonstrates that "blending" is not always a seamless transition; it is sometimes a rupture. The introduction of the third element renders the whole neither fully one thing nor the other, but a misfitting hybrid.
Safety and Visibility
I heavily employ the visual language of OSHA safety standards—specifically high-visibility orange and traffic cones—to contrast with the invisibility of Black and Brown labor. The traffic cone is a symbol of protection and visibility, yet here it highlights a lack of safety. It serves as a beacon, drawing attention to the unseen structures and bodies that built the country, illuminating the "ghosts" in the machinery of American commerce.
I heavily employ the visual language of OSHA safety standards—specifically high-visibility orange and traffic cones—to contrast with the invisibility of Black and Brown labor. The traffic cone is a symbol of protection and visibility, yet here it highlights a lack of safety. It serves as a beacon, drawing attention to the unseen structures and bodies that built the country, illuminating the "ghosts" in the machinery of American commerce.
Material Nexus
By turning plush toys inside out and amassing their filling, I expose the material that creates their volume: cotton. For me, this material is a mediator, which connects the stolen labor of my African ancestors to the stolen land of my Indigenous ancestors. The chaotic, raw presentation of this exposed "fluff" connects the debris of childhood play to the heavy economic burden of the American South.
By turning plush toys inside out and amassing their filling, I expose the material that creates their volume: cotton. For me, this material is a mediator, which connects the stolen labor of my African ancestors to the stolen land of my Indigenous ancestors. The chaotic, raw presentation of this exposed "fluff" connects the debris of childhood play to the heavy economic burden of the American South.
Compliance and Tension
The feeling of danger in my work is literalized through physics. I create structures where heavy blocks or weights are tilted precariously above fragile figures; if the figure moves, the structure collapses. This visualizes the demand for "compliance" placed on biracial and queer bodies. It captures the anxiety of a survival strategy that relies on absolute stillness to avoid being crushed by the weight of the structure above.
The feeling of danger in my work is literalized through physics. I create structures where heavy blocks or weights are tilted precariously above fragile figures; if the figure moves, the structure collapses. This visualizes the demand for "compliance" placed on biracial and queer bodies. It captures the anxiety of a survival strategy that relies on absolute stillness to avoid being crushed by the weight of the structure above.
Structural Anxiety
My installations often lack permanent fixatives. Elements are stacked, leaning, or held together by exposed screws in temporary, site-specific configurations. This lack of structural integrity is intentional. It creates a tangible sense of impending collapse, forcing the viewer to navigate the space with extreme caution. This precarity is the ultimate metaphor for my practice: a visualization of identity as a provisional state of existence that feels constantly at risk of falling apart.
My installations often lack permanent fixatives. Elements are stacked, leaning, or held together by exposed screws in temporary, site-specific configurations. This lack of structural integrity is intentional. It creates a tangible sense of impending collapse, forcing the viewer to navigate the space with extreme caution. This precarity is the ultimate metaphor for my practice: a visualization of identity as a provisional state of existence that feels constantly at risk of falling apart.