Tell us about your technique and what motivates you to create art.
I’m a mixed media artist exploring dichotomies: natural and artificial, trash and treasure, sacred and profane, luxury and kitsch. My practice spans sculpture, photography, printmaking, textiles, and site-specific installations. I often emulate material culture and organic artifacts, replicating status symbols like rugs, chandeliers, garments, and houseplants—yet subverting them with cheap, found, or recycled materials.
Anthropology and psychology classes have influenced my perspective. My art becomes a way to study culture, human desire, and the systems that shape social and environmental disparity. My upbringing—sifting through thrift stores, daydreaming in ornate Catholic churches, and spending time in nature—still informs my fascination with excess, preservation, and decay.
What sets your work apart?
The blending of mediums. While photography isn’t my sole medium anymore, it’s still embedded within my mixed media practice. Recycling, both literally and conceptually, is central—I use discarded objects, but also replicate them through molding, casting, or photographing, giving them new life.
Culturally, my perspective is shaped by growing up in suburban Arkansas and spending time in rural Louisiana, while also traveling to Europe in my teens. That contrast—between Southern vernacular culture and historic European art and architecture—has been deeply formative.
Which piece best represents you?
My rug series ties together many of my interests. The collages draw from Las Vegas aesthetics, European palatial design, and Southern cultural motifs. A favorite work, In This World You’re a God, references the extravagant “Garden of the Gods Pool Oasis” at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas—juxtaposed with swamp creatures inspired by my Louisiana roots. It reflects themes of kitsch, artificiality, and the gap between marketed luxury and lived reality.
Who or what inspires your work?
I’m inspired by books, site visits, and lived experiences. I consider myself a research-based artist, often letting ideas marinate for years before execution. Some favorites include The Vatican to Vegas (Norman Klein), Air Guitar (Dave Hickey), and The Artificial Kingdom (Celeste Olalquiaga). I also love Bloomsbury’s Object Lessons series.
My rug series was sparked by a 2018 trip to Europe, where I encountered Versailles’ monumental Savonnerie rugs. Their scale reminded me of casino carpets, leading me to experiment with rug prints years later. Museums—whether encyclopedic or eccentric roadside collections—are also a constant source of inspiration.
I’m a mixed media artist exploring dichotomies: natural and artificial, trash and treasure, sacred and profane, luxury and kitsch. My practice spans sculpture, photography, printmaking, textiles, and site-specific installations. I often emulate material culture and organic artifacts, replicating status symbols like rugs, chandeliers, garments, and houseplants—yet subverting them with cheap, found, or recycled materials.
Anthropology and psychology classes have influenced my perspective. My art becomes a way to study culture, human desire, and the systems that shape social and environmental disparity. My upbringing—sifting through thrift stores, daydreaming in ornate Catholic churches, and spending time in nature—still informs my fascination with excess, preservation, and decay.
Which piece best represents you?
My rug series ties together many of my interests. The collages draw from Las Vegas aesthetics, European palatial design, and Southern cultural motifs. A favorite work, In This World You’re a God, references the extravagant “Garden of the Gods Pool Oasis” at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas—juxtaposed with swamp creatures inspired by my Louisiana roots. It reflects themes of kitsch, artificiality, and the gap between marketed luxury and lived reality.
Is there anything outside of the arts that motivates you?
Curating feels like a natural extension of my practice, particularly through PARADICE PALASE, an online network supporting emerging artists. I see both my curatorial work and my rugs as forms of aggregation—selecting and combining materials to build larger narratives. Making the rug series as prints instead of unique collages was also a conscious choice toward accessibility and democratization of art.
How would you prefer people to interact with your work?
Sensory engagement is important to me. My sculptures are uncanny replicas of real objects, and my rugs are velvety prints that tempt viewers to touch or sit on them. I like creating this tension between desire and denial—reflecting our everyday experiences with alluring but intangible digital images. The rugs’ designs feel luxurious but are built from discarded, artificial, or dead materials. This contrast provokes reflection on value, consumerism, and waste. Ultimately, I hope viewers reconsider their own relationship to objects and perhaps even explore recycling through creative processes at home.
What advice would you give to someone pursuing a creative academic education?
Art school is an incredible place to develop skills, critical thinking, and community, but it doesn’t fully prepare you for life after. My advice: before graduating, think about how you’ll sustain your practice. Build supportive networks, learn the business side of art, and set realistic long-term goals.
Communities like PARADICE PALASE, NY Crit Club, and Equity Gallery offer opportunities for growth, mentorship, and peer support. Collaboration and mutual encouragement are key—you and your peers can create opportunities together.