Growing up in Kentucky, I was surrounded by folk art. My mother has a huge collection of amateur art pieces. The walls of her home overflow with miniature sculptures, paintings, quilts, etc. The spirit of folk art, as I see it, is the act of assemblage, of piecing together disparate parts, recycling and repurposing forgotten items. This spirit captured my attention in childhood and followed me into my art practice as an adult.

My work is an exploration of instinct and improvisation—I consider myself equal parts artist and editor. From magazines, photographs, and clippings of my own discarded artwork, I build stories. These stories become drawings which become cutouts which become paintings and prints. By working with pre-digested source material and in a limited color palette, I opt to restrict my artistic autonomy and welcome the incongruity of found forms. While the method is highly spontaneous, I find that I return to themes of ritual, mysticism, death, and celebration. Each piece develops its unique story—one that I had not or could not set out to tell, but that somehow always echoes my own.

I'm currently creating work that addresses the horrors of the pandemic—the failures of our healthcare system and government, the economy, police violence, and more.