My art has always revolved around my connection to the land.

I grew up climbing across sun warmed rocks and through cedar trees, twigs and sap in my hair. It wasn't until I moved to Los Angeles in 2017 that I noticed how necessary that connection was, and is, for my sanity.
During lockdown I found myself wandering the neighborhoods with a want to see beyond the concrete and a need to find an artistic outlet that didn't include access to flame. My past outlets of metal and clay weren’t much of an option with all studios closed.

Then I found the towering pine trees of California and the little bare foot and wild haired child of my soul jumped for joy. Here was a medium that would give me the vessel forms I was craving while also allowing for a closer connection to the land. I scurried back home with a bundle of needles clutched in my hands.
Washed and dried I took to experimenting with the long needles. Even the smell of them soaking in the hot, soapy water gave me a closer feeling of connection.
It was time to see what these plants could teach me.