recent work

Through a lens of environmental sustainability, my work reincarnates the discarded, transforms the used, and celebrates biological structure to draw attention to the human relationship with the natural world.

Contact the artist for a list of available work.

Relic (2025 Studio Channel Islands installation)

salvaged fir beams and cedar wood strips, termite and mycogenic decay

This installation of charred wood employs the method of yakisugi, or shō sugi ban, a traditional Japanese technique for wood preservation, which is inherently at odds with the lumber’s state of demise and impermanence. Using wood salvaged from construction projects reflects our reliance on forests as a natural resource for building human structures. Highlighting the decay is a reverence for nature’s ability to regenerate itself, and it examines how other organisms utilize a tree’s structure for life-energy transfer in an ecosystem.

human-sized bird nest with white branches

The Bed We Made (2024)

Cut birch and aspen tree branches, twigs, pine needles, leaves, grape vines, dried grasses and flowers, kapok tree pod fiber, fallen tree seed pods, paper leaves, human hair, telephone cables, kiln coils, bicycle innertube, wool and cotton fabric scraps, yarn, jute twine, hand-pressed recycled paper, 91” x 98” x 81”

The Bed We Made incorporates natural materials and remnants of human discards that represent the conveniences of heat, transport, and communication. Metaphorically, it embodies the adage that we must bear the consequences of ecologically destructive human behavior and imagines a near future tipping point of living symbiotically rather than parasitically. The nest’s resident is conspicuously absent.

recycled paper sculpture, embossed bark texture

Silent Spring (homage to R.L. Carson), 2024

hand-pressed recycled papers, embossed with vegetation and bark texture, 56” x 44” x 2”

Silent Spring pays homage to biologist Rachel L. Carson, whose work revealed the hazards of pesticides and pollution, sparking global environmental awareness. In sheets of recycled paper, I record various reincarnations of the life of trees as stoic human neighbors and home to birds and insects.

black and white paper sculpture with found objects

Fragmented Landacape (no.1)

Hand-pressed cotton paper, tree branch pieces, twill tape, grape stake, clothespin, India ink
28h x 31w x 2d
2023 (sold)
Like water across crop fields, black ink seeps into the surface of a hand-pressed paper and is torn into grid segments emulating land conquest and subdivision by its victors for perpetual servitude. Created following a trip through California’s Central Valley, I was reminded how each contrived parcel of earth has disrupted and supplanted social, political and natural geographic frontiers over time.

gray paper sculpture with cut vertical rows

Fragmented Landscape (no.2)

hand-pressed recycled paper, mason stain pigment
56h x 44w x 2d
2023
This Summer’s journeys found me traversing the highways of California’s Central Valley and adventuring to southern Texas, and neither trip would have been complete without enduring the intense temperatures of the arid Southwest. In a daze of repeating grids, agricultural landscapes have been cut into the natural contours of the earth—all segments of land conquest and subdivision by its victors. In perpetual servitude for livestock, grapes, nut trees, or cotton, these land uses sponge up water from invisible aquifers and leave a dry crust surface. Pavement markings, fences and plowed fields stretch out before you in long straight lines. Becoming lost in thought, these mesmorizing patterns streaking past me—and perhaps the presence of a border wall or reservation—generated an awareness of how each contrived parcel of land has disrupted and supplanted social, political and natural geographic frontiers over time.