Love and Shed 1-3
Digital photograph with photoshop, plastic table cloth
In Love and Shed 1-3, a bright yellow pendant, cut from a discarded plastic tablecloth and inscribed with the word “LOVE”, hangs against a backdrop of roadside trees. Nearby, a small shed rests precariously on stacked cinder blocks, positioned in a temporary, in-between state. The word “LOVE” echoes again on the pavement below, as if slipping out of the pendant and spreading into the street.
The work pairs impermanence with care, asking how love persists within unstable or transitional spaces. By using repurposed plastic, the piece underscores the tension between durability and disposability, while the shed suggests forms of shelter that are fragile, provisional, or overlooked.
Together, the pendant and structure create a quiet intervention in the landscape, a reminder that love can be both a marker and a bridge, appearing even in places of uncertainty or displacement.
It’s Ok
2025
Digital photograph with textile intervention
While scouting land for Land Hearts, I came upon this recently clear-cut hilltop. The scene holds contradiction: devastation and renewal, extraction and regrowth. It hurts to witness the scale of removal—evidence of human impact (and sometimes nature’s own force) yet the ground also carries the possibility of return.
The phrase It’s ok has become a recent mantra. Borrowed, as most language is, from someone else, it circulates as shared knowledge—an offering of steadiness in unsettled terrain. Here, the words appear as bright, suspended textile forms against a scarred landscape: reassurance hovering over rupture.
What we need, beyond reassurance, is care. The healing of land and of one another, requires attention, responsibility, and tenderness. War is not care. Regrowth begins with how we hold what has been cut down.