I was a good girl i will be a good woman

Coming April 2026

Utilizing the framework of a dog as a proxy for female adolescence, I explore pack mentality, domestication, and “animalistic” ranges of emotion. As traditional roles of passive caregiving are placed onto girls, the dogs frame a young woman’s dilemma: compliance as a man’s best friend, or resistance at the cost of being labeled a bitch.

Steel/Rotating Motor

Dimensions coming

2025

Awaiting photo return from wearable showcase

shackled shield

Hydrocal/Wood

Dimensions coming.

2025

word of mouth

Untitled

Bronze

9.5” x 8” x 4.5”

2024

Wood/Video Projection

36.5” x 39” x 70” ; video duration: 00:01:59

2024

borrowed & Overdue

Paranoiac Boundlessness discusses dissociation, paranoia, and anxiety. The piece being a soapstone body carved into the fetal position placed inside a bird cage and hung from the ceiling, it speaks of always feeling as though you are being watched and observed. The cage is equally self imprisoning and an act of self preservation.

paranoiac boundlessness

I do not mind the fire because it keeps me warm for now

I Do Not Mind the Fire, Because it Keeps Me Warm For Now is the first sculptural installation in my upcoming trauma series. This piece specifically highlights the after effects of living through toxic relationships. Utilizing hand carving techniques, I crafted two hands with open palms which, adhered to the wall, hold a burning candle. Here the hands symbolize giving oneself up to someone/something that feels safe, but is overall harmful.

Dimensions coming

The candle symbolizes a multitude of themes, including toxic love, choices, and self image. The hands hold this burning flame up in both admiration and sacrifice, presenting it and allowing it to burn them for the sake of keeping the flame alive. The wax may be devouring the hands, but first it is only warm, slowly coaxing the hands and wrapping them in a heated embrace. Though the hands are filled and eventually consumed with this hot wax, they do not let go until it is physically impossible to continue holding it up. I Do Not Mind the Fire, Because it Keeps Me Warm For Now discusses the short-term, intermittent joy that can exist in harmful situations and confuse/tempt the victim to stay in hopes of this joy returning. 


School Supplies

School Supplies is a ceramic sculptural piece responding to the prevalence of school shootings. I hope to communicate how normalized preparations for school shootings have become and the emotional weights that students and educators carry everyday. I myself grew up practicing “intruder drill” safety procedures in which from kindergarten through senior year of high school we practiced barricading the classroom doors, turning the lights off, and packing all 30+ students into the darkest corner of the room. We were told that if we knew a classmate was not in the room at the time, we were not allowed to let them in if they returned seeking safety.

I never knew that my parents did not grow up with these sorts of drills or that there had ever been a better reality than this one. Overall, School Supplies communicates how death does not fit in the classroom, the weight of the anxiety this instills in American society, and what it really means that we have necessary safety drills. They are not only precautions, but accepting that tombstones might become part of our school supplies list. 


Dimensions coming

Girlhood as a Ghost

I feel like I am 15 again

Begging my bedroom ceiling to tell me something 

There are ghosts of me in every place I have ever lived

I left a little girl in that green and purple bedroom

She is begging to be let out, she bangs on the walls of my chest

I do not let her

I cannot help her

I left a child in the orange bedroom 

She is begging to be let out, she is scratching at my bones

I do not let her

I cannot help her

I left a girl in that beige rented room

She is begging to be let out, she is climbing up my spine

I do not let her

I cannot help her

I left a teenage girl in all four bedroom of my parents new house

She is begging to be let out, she is screaming in my ears

I do not let her

I cannot help her

I shredded parts of her in the bedrooms at the lake

And scattered the scraps in his apartment

She is in pieces there, begging me to bring them together 

I do not let her out

I cannot help her

Dimensions coming

Accompanied by manipulated audio of the poem written.

I feel like I am 16 again

Begging the world to notice me

I am deteriorating in that bedroom

I climb out the window and stare at the stars until my hands turn blue

I liked to think someone was watching me then

I liked to think someone was up there looking out for me

I do not talk to God anymore

I am 21 now and my friend is dead

I talk to her like she is God now

And no one answers and no one calls and I could not see the stars tonight

I am 17 and I am 21

We are driving and driving down backroad after backroad

She takes the wheel for me so that I can feel the wind

We pick the girls up

And they hang out the window with me and they lie in the trunk and they sleep on one another and brush each other’s hair and we share snacks and play our favorite songs 

They ask why I am still in the car

I tell them I could not help it

There are worse bedrooms to come for them and we are stuck there

I drive us all until my gas light blinks red

I take them each home

They go back to their bedrooms

And I go back to mine