I remember as a teenager viewing an unremarkable fragment of Roman floor mosaic in a museum.

Due to its diminished size, its position as domestic art (made for feet), its basic design- it was not significant. But it remained, and it contained everything meaningful.

Later, working in an auction house, I handled many old, small, and undeniably powerful household things. All of them were made by unnamed, often brutally marginalized people.

As a child, I observed that I was not enough. Making, for me, is an act of resistance. I work quickly. I puncture, stretch, deface, add to, move on from. I describe the ambivalence within my body.

Within the confines of who I have been told I am, I find I am more than that. If I am, so we all are. And that is what I work to communicate in these pieces.