O N  M A K I N G

My childhood was full of making music,

paintings, scrapbooks, and one-woman

theatre productions. I would build the

instruments myself, hang a bed-sheet for a

backdrop, and sell tickets to the show

to my family members and our cat—this

doesn’t feel far off from my art practices

today. My long-standing relationship with

DIY problem solving is still very central

to my creative processes, now evidenced

in my work as a dancer, dance-maker,

collage-maker, and writer. I consistently

find these multiple modes of creating

bleeding into one another and filtering

themselves into the live performance

experiences I aim to create.


My making is deeply directed by experiences

of trauma, leading me to creatively consider

concepts such as dissociation, false memory,

catharsis, and fog. I find clarity in making

messes, and work to overlap and fray the

edges between these ideas, senses, and

kinesthetic sensibilities. The choreography

prioritizes sensation over shape, often with

a goal of disorientation or physicalized

multi-tasking, quickly transposing from

billowing sweeps of limbs and torso to

oddly exacting gestural rhythms. These

vacillating systems build asymmetrical,

multi-layered collages that seem to always

be teetering on the brink of dissolve, only

held together by the thoughtful choice-

making of the performers or a strip of

blue painter’s tape.

I use these processes as a tactic of survival

and trust them to bring challenge,

grounding, and resolution to my life. For

me, my artistic practices serve as an

attempt to situate myself in relationship

with a post-trauma moving body, a

lineage of artistic mentors, the greater

world, and my own self-perception.

Our communal practices are vital to

sharpen our problem-solving skills and fill

out our sense of selves as our time in

the studio directly relates to the every-day;

a cyclical endeavor from collaging,

choreographing, and beyond.