I view my body as both a home and an unfamiliar landscape. As a young woman, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that my body is something bigger than myself. I hit a painful awkward stage in middle school, which meant that everyone around me suddenly had opinions about my body that I couldn’t fully understand yet. There was suddenly all this pressure to be much more aware of myself and how I existed in the world– to stay small, to be quiet, and always be mindful of the space I was occupying.

My body of work directly confronts my relationship with the body and by extension, others around me. I use installation as a metaphor for the loss of ownership I felt over my body as I got older, inviting viewers to engage with the spaces I create, and subsequently releasing control over how they view my work. I juxtapose different colors, shapes, and textures unfamiliar with one another, which references my discomfort with change.

I gravitate toward the tactile, losing myself in physical processes like knitting, sewing, and crocheting. These techniques, which are passed down to me among the women in my family, are usually associated with being casual, domestic, and quiet. In contrast, my pieces are expansive, utilizing color, texture, and scale to reclaim space and by extension power.

The incorporation of sentimental materials within my work is a metaphor for the loss of familiarity I’ve felt within my relationships as I’ve gotten older. By abstracting materials like bedsheets, book pages, cardboard, my grandmother’s fabric and yarn, and my own clothing, I question the line between the alien and the familiar. I feel both at home within my body while also finding it unrecognizable as I’ve grown up.

In my installation Offer Me Anything, I focus specifically on accommodation. The domestic materials emphasize the power imbalance I feel within my home life. The expansive environment the piece exists in represents my desire for change. I asked viewers to unload whatever was weighing on them, continuously adding weight to the vessel holder.

Change, though often uncomfortable, is necessary. Though many elements of my life are constantly shifting, through my work I seek to embrace discomfort, using past experiences to shape and influence new environments.