1992 - ongoing
Contemplative, Process-based Studio Work


2021 - ongoing
STUDIO: A Vocabulary for the Conjurings

Collaborations with homemade, homegrown natural inks on muslin.

Current studio work arising from practicing the permacultural tenet of protracted thoughtful observation, and inspired by ancient healing modalities of embedding cloth and clothing with plant medicine through a complex process of dyeing. I’ve spent the past four summers cultivating a fiber and dye garden from which I’ve harvested a palette of yellows, reds, and blues, and of course I’m perfecting browns. These, in combination with abundant native plants and mushrooms; invasive plants, and mineral mordants form the basis of my mark-making materials.

These paintings are meditations on living closely with the land and other creatures; by spiritual and psychological practices; mythological and cosmological guidance; and particularly by my experience with idiopathic health diagnoses in the wake of Covid and the work of healing.

2023 - ongoing.
Becoming the Spider.

Weaving Experiments in organic cotton and wool dyed with nearby plants and mushrooms. 

Statement coming soon

Rudimentary Industry

Research for and beyond The Printmakers Left publication The Hinterlands. 

Attempting a rudimentary understanding of industrial workings, beginning with the book, A Rudimentary Understanding of Industry, Taking Measurements in 2015, and expanding into ideas of aesthetic remediation (a term I learned at the tabasco factory in Louisiana) and new landfill aggregates. 

The  collages overlap images found on via google search of factory sites that are on the PERI Toxic 100 with images of nature from the Life Books - and are playful proposals for aesthetic remediation. 


Landlooker: Emission Readings

Post Lost Coast Culture Machine, I wanted to pick up working in the studio where I had left off when moving to California in 2008.

I had been creating hybrid landscapes examining human relationships to land - of urban-rural, sustained-depleted, cultivated and paved expanses usually inhabited by animal witnesses. {See Preeminent Domain} On the move to California, I’d taken thousands of photos, sent some back to the job I’d just left and weeks later had rolls of large format photographs waiting to be cut up and recombined.

But my mom had died two weeks after my cross-country move to help care for her, and so I spent a lot of time in the dirt with plants learning to live again. And then Lost Coast Culture Machine was born. 

So here, seven years later were the first attempts, full of frenzied energy, exploding into space.