I work at the edge where things are thrown away and where they might become something else. I take materials nobody wants anymore—plastic plants, fire hoses, old cables—and transform them through slow, deliberate craft. Our world feels like it's coming apart, and I'm picking at the seams to understand how it was put together in the first place.

The Post-Colonial Quilt reveals our strange relationship with nature—how we replicate it while simultaneously destroying it. There's something both melancholic and accusatory in this contradiction. These fake plants are more than just decoration; they're evidence of severed connections—to indigenous land, to living systems, to something authentic.

The American flag made from old fire hoses transforms a national symbol using materials that represent both environmental crisis and abject urgency. What does America mean when its landscape is on fire? These hoses fought wildfires until they couldn't anymore—seven thousand miles discarded every year. They're still strong, still useful, but deemed worthless. Just like so many other things.

The technological baskets perform a kind of alchemy, turning the cold infrastructure of digital connection into vessels that reference ancient human traditions. Mass production moves fast; my hands move slow. That slowness isn't just a technique—it's a form of resistance, a reclamation of craftsmanship from disposability.

The tents and portraits introduce elements of shelter, identity, and the body—all things threatened by the same systems that produce this waste. The hidden feminine speaks through these materials—coming back from silence to be heard.

PreTense functions as both mourning and resistance. I'm documenting disconnection while demonstrating how we might reconnect—through slowness, through making, through attention to what we discard. There's a feminist undercurrent throughout, challenging systems of extraction while honoring traditionally feminine crafts and care work.

This work isn't just about what's wrong with right now. It's about showing an alternative—how transformation, reuse, and careful attention might offer pathways forward. I'm finding beauty in what we've cast aside while questioning the systems that led to their disposal.