ok so here's the thing:


i used to make photographs. for a while, this was enough.

until it wasn’t.

my thoughts grew invisible, there was no longer something to point the camera at. i began to walk, slowly. i collected: there were objects, then writings, then drawings. even what you might call, *gasp* installations. but always, there were books. landscapes, loves, the lives of city birds. if you asked me the answer to life’s biggest and most perplexing questions, i would probably find a way to bring it all down to self-publishing.


but (as you’ve probably picked up already), this was not enough. i learned i needed other artists around me if i was to make anything worthwhile. i found that the spaces for this collectivity to occur, are few. i was lucky to find community, to watch artists and activists collaborate, to participate. my work became more immaterial, and soon i began to make space for other artists to come together. to make, think, play, exhibit, publish, perform.


i am shifting my practice to make room for others, i continue to ask myself what will be enough and i always, always make books.

work in progress // come back soon