Isn't it weird to live in a body?
Isn't it weird to be so confined and so endless at the same time?
Isn't it wild how many things can exist within us at the same time?

Often magical and strange, my work tends to concern itself with intimacy, autonomy, and the comforts and confinements of having a physical form. My work strives to explore the ways women and queer folks have been systemically conditioned to disassociate from our pleasure, and the ways white supremacy culture disconnects us from our bodies. I'm interested in creating spaces that invite the audience to safely and joyously reconnect to themselves.

My work often asks "...are you breathing?"

I'm interested in coaxing the audience back into their own bodies
with tenderness
with play
with surprise
with breath
with each other.

I believe in stories that invite our bodies to internalize possibilities, while holding space for the complications and complexities of where we are right now. I create as a way of exposing myself to the worlds I want to live in, using the collision of past, present, and future to give my nervous system some practice renegotiating my relationship to kindness, safety, joy, mess, and imagination. I’m interested in creating narrative containers that are so alive and tethered to the play, the structure has no other choice but to change, to break apart, to break open.

I write to break open.

So let's get weird, y'all.