EAT IT

2025, plaster casting, felt, thread, yarn, beads, paper mache. Eat It, is a multimedia sculpture featuring a self cast bust made from plaster, sewn together with red thread. Attached to the front are two wet felted pieces adorned with yarn that drapes to the floor, where it is piled in heaps. Beneath the yarn, the words, “Oh my god why are you such a fucking cunt” can be seen in red lettering across the torso. 

This piece, like much of my other work,  focuses on identity and emotion. Part of what we make up our identities to be is dictated by the spaces we occupy, and is informed by gender dynamics. As a woman, there are expectations of behavior in public forums. We must be submissive, polite, happy, and above all, “on.” All of this to avoid the label of “bitchy.” I have been particularly angry lately, but my role and identity as a woman does not allow for expression of this, making daily life extremely uncomfortable. Eat It takes place within an imaginary world where I can say what I truly feel. The vibrant felted pieces highlight the points on the body which I feel emotion, in my throat and chest. Anger and sadness are synchronous to me, and I use color to hint at these emotions. The unraveling yarn from the center mimics the idea of “spilling your guts,” it asks, is it better to be honest, or to be accepted? There is also a desire to fall apart, to ruin everything, and be led by emotion. In some ways, it is funny, and immature, the use of text allows me to let go of my worries about how the work will be perceived, and express raw feeling. The movement within the piece demands you, pay attention, look at me, listen to me- eat it. 

RISK

Risk, 2024 is is my largest sculpture to date, made from a chicken wire armature and covered with plaster, it’s about 4’ wide, by 2’ tall and 2’ depth. It takes notes from the work of Eva Hesse, as it alludes to the human body in a way that you can’t quite put your finger on. I believe that scale can be a powerful component in artwork, giving monumentalism to things that are not treated as such, like the quiet feelings and discomforts we embody as humans. Using the word “risk” as a prompt, I thought about what risk meant to me and how it appeared in my life. In the scope of my work, which explores identity, the female experience, love, and loss, I found that being a woman in this female body is inherently risky. I have made works before about how the socialization of women's bodies can be harmful, and this piece feels like the conclusion to that idea. Being able to carry children is a double edged sword, and with threatening policies being made to limit our reproductive rights, it becomes progressively more frightening. The feeling of not being in control of your body is scary, and Risk represents that. The shape of the piece references the shape of a fetus in utero, and the texture, smooth and webby can appear as wet in certain lighting. The fleshy color of the object plays into this further. For a while it was just that- a smooth lumpy mass. Then came the spikes, which are another material I tend to gravitate towards. As a symbol, they warn the viewer of danger, but contextually they can also stand for warding off danger, to protect the wearer of the spikes, playing into the double standard that some policy makers have towards women experiencing unwanted pregnancies. Risk is not an answer, but it is an expression of how it feels to be a young woman living in this body in the wake of an overturned Roe v Wade.

POLAROID DIARY

The Polaroid Diary, October 2023, March 2024, is an ongoing project made up of polaroids and poetry. I make ‘entries’ in the polaroid diary whenever I feel like I need to. As a girl, I had multiple diaries, and now I occasionally journal, but the polaroid diary has proven to be more effective for me. My work persistently sees how more vulnerable it can get with each piece. Like most of my work, the polaroid diary is full of sorrow.

The first entry follows the aftermath of a toxic relationship. The photos paired with fragmented text takes the viewer through a depressive episode, and the feeling of complete brokenness. The subject is aware of itself, and there is still traces of hope within the material.

In the second entry, the problem of relationships is further explored, but this time, the lens widens. Without sentimentality, the content reflects on past romances and how they relate to identity. This entry relies less on the personal body, and more on the environment, marking a crossing of a threshold in the narrative. Going back home from Los Angeles to Grass Valley, it marks that nothing is ever the same after the conflict in entry one. Further exploring identity, this entry unashamedly displays how I create my own identity partially from the people I love and have loved. It asks how the viewer how they create their identity. Who are you? Are you ashamed? Are you proud? Are you special?

PLEASURE

Pleasure, December 2023, is my most recent sculpture, created at Santa Monica College under instruction of Emily Silver. Pleasure features two bright red dis-membered body figures, with their genitalia exposed and studded with spikes leaning back to back against another, lain atop a bright blue faux fur. Instructed to make a soft sculpture, I wanted to bring in very hard elements as well. The bodies were made by taking casts of mine and my partners body using packing tape and covered in plaster, creating a gritty, almost gory texture.

Pleasure is about prioritizing pleasure over everything. Ignoring judgment from your family, friends, and peers, to prioritize your own temporary pleasure. In love, two people can offer a temporary comfort to one another, but in the end, they may leave eachother damaged. Afterwards, they can either pick up the pieces, or chase after the next pleasure. Raising the question, is life just a repetition of temporary pleasure? Is it wrong to live for pleasure? Does it lead to self destruction?

SELF PORTRAIT

Self portrait, November 2023, was a breakthrough piece for me as an artist. Creating my first abstract sculpture via carving foam, plaster, and paper mache, this piece fuses together my photography, poetry, and sculpting practices. Created under the administration of Emily Silver at Santa Monica College, this project came about at the perfect time for me.

Evolved from Untitled, (shown below), this piece builds upon the same themes of generational trauma, womanhood, relationships, the body, objectification of women, and suffering.

Taking the stills from a flat, two-dimensional space, and warping them onto the three-dimensional object, gives life to an inanimate design. The bandaging of the images overtop the bulging, wrinkled object plays into the notion of feeling suffocated by your own humanity.

UNTITLED

Untitled, September 2023, is a series of black and white negatives and some darkroom prints taken on 35mm and 120mm, paired with text, this work disorients the viewer. Bold red text issues warning to the viewer. It questions what does it mean to be good? What does a good girl look like?

It’s processing generational trauma and how myself and my body put me in situations where men have a lot of power over me. And there’s also the idea of making the right choice. I’ve had a lot of big decisions since graduating high school and being on my own. The choices women make in a society not framed for them to be independent are often used to blame them when everything falls apart. I have thought a lot about the idea of being a “good woman” and what that means and all of the knowledge passed from the women in my family that have endured this. How that brought me here. And how hard it is to try to break a cycle when all odds are against you. It’s common as a woman to be a voyeur of yourself and your suffering. In this way I can be the ultimate voyeur of myself. So aware of my suffering that I perform it and photograph it and post it for people to consume.

NOTES OF A NASTY GRRRL

Notes of a Nasty Grrrl, May 2021-June 2022, was my first major project. Spanning 2 years, I printed and sold 3 issues of the Nasty Grrrl zine.

First created to be a roller skate zine, I wanted to make something that honored marginalized skaters. Seeing the new skateboard mag drops, and not seeing my community represented, I wanted to make something that celebrated us, and built community.

With each issue, the content became less skate related, and more art driven.

Each issue can be viewed upon request via email, and issue 3 is still available for purchase. Updates on Notes of a Nasty Grrrl can be found on the on instagram. For inquiries about the zine, email notesofanastygrrrl@gmail.com with subject, ‘zine’