Post-Colonial Quilt
Discarded plastic plants, cotton thread
50" x 40"
2024
Post-Colonial quilt travels back to the origins of colonialism in the U.S.. Created with discarded plastic plants, the quilt explores the origin point of the western world we inhabit today – a world where we attempt to replicate nature while simultaneously destroying her.
Decommissioned
decommissioned wild fire hoses,
plastic plant leaves,
70.5" x33.5", 2024
Due to the rising intensity of wildfires in the United States, thehoses used to fight these fires are decommissioned because theyno longer meet the required pressure standards. Every year, 1million lbs and 7 thousand miles of these hoses aredecommissioned and become waste. These retired hoses areused to craft this American flag
Fragments
Plastic plant fragments, quilt off-cuts
15 ft x 8 ft
2025
When making the Post Colonial quilt, my studio floor was filled with plastic plant off-cuts as a result of repeatedly cutting squares. They became the pieces that didn’t fit, discarded on the floor. It made me think about systems and structures the U.S. was built on –– systems in structures that many inherently don’t fit into. This map speaks to the incompleteness and liminality that this county is perched in.
Our FatherDiscarded plastic plants, cotton thread
11" x 11"
2025
While I was making the Post-Colonial quilt, I kept seeing an image of George Washington in my mind's eye. The plants wanted to render him too—as if he was their father. Here was a man founding a country with the promise of "liberty" but with complete disregard for culture, tradition, nature, connection to our communities and the earth. The plastic plants continue to show me their origin story—the birth of a world that attempts to recreate a lifeless image of nature while simultaneously destroying her.
He is clearly recognizable, yet anonymous. Not only representing George, but the "founding fathers"—the archetype of the man who fears nature and her power, now rendered in his own version of her, made to never die.
In Divisible
Discarded American Flags
10ft x 2.5 ft
2025
The season is starting to change and people are clearing out their garages. March 2025. They find an old garbage bag filled with American flags. It doesn’t feel right to hang them. Their friends definitely won’t want them. They post on craigslist, “looking to discard these american flags, but don’t have time to do it properly. Maybe someone can use for an art project.” My friend Orso texts me the link: “Thought you might be interested in these. See ya Thursday.”
When I was in 2nd grade, the year 9/11 happened, I have memories of my class standing, placing our right hands over our hearts, and saying the pledge of allegiance. In hindsight, it always feels strange. I remember the word “indivisible”. It sounds unusual in my memory. Like a mouthful. As if I can still feel my seven-year-old self stumbling over the word. Perhaps it was a word I was making up or was mispronouncing all along. I look it up. “Indivisible”.
Now I understand. It seems ironic to be in a country, now so divided, that people are looking for help to dispose of these nylon flags. In my studio, I divide them up with my fabric scissors. They reconfigure themselves in a new way. The word they form seems to speak for itself. In Divisible.
DVI Clay Coil Pot
Discarded DVI and HDMI cords, wire,
15" x 14"
2024
Applying tradition of craft to technological detritus.
Disparate Forms
quilted plastic plants,google earth screen shots,
discarded computer graphics card,
2024
Technology
makes cities
Belief that we can engineer nature
makes agriculture