Crimes Against Nature

Crimes Against Nature gathers works made at sites where the sacred has been betrayed—where governments, industries, and weapons tests have shattered ecosystems and altered the earth’s memory.
These images, films, and cyanotypes are created in direct dialogue with those places: guided by stormwinds, scorched soil, and the spectral residue of human ambition. Each piece is a gesture of defiance and devotion.
This is art as indictment. Art as prayer. Art as residue of what cannot be buried.

Ecocide for Profit: The Vanishing Desert
Polaroid Triptych · 2024

For decades, the Southern California desert has been reshaped by unsustainable agriculture and, more recently, lithium mining—extractive forces that have led to ecosystem collapse, toxic dust storms, and vanishing night skies.

These Polaroid images are records of harm. Faded, oversaturated, and chemically unstable, they reflect what has been lost—not only birds, butterflies, and stars, but the sacred balance between land and life.

The pink hue is not a filter; it is the film’s decay, a wound made visible.

A final shimmer, before the silence.

Crimes Against Nature: White Sands & the Trinity Test Site

Cyanotypes on Fabric, Holga 120N Photography, Video
(2021, during the COVID-19 lockdown)

White Sands National Park is one of the world’s great natural wonders—a glistening expanse of gypsum dunes in the heart of New Mexico’s Tularosa Basin. But it is also a place marked by devastation. Just beyond its northern edge, on July 16, 1945, the United States detonated the first atomic bomb—code-named Trinity. The land has never forgotten.

I made this work in 2021, during the lockdowns of the COVID-19 pandemic. In that suspended moment of global uncertainty, I traveled to White Sands to listen to a different silence—the haunted stillness of a wounded desert.

On site, I created cyanotypes by allowing incoming stormwinds to carry sand across sensitized fabric.
I used a Holga 120N camera to photograph as wind and light collided—sand rising in spirals around me.
I stood at the center of a sudden dervish storm and filmed it, letting the elements compose their own testimony.

This is a work of witnessing.
A collaboration with violated land.
A refusal to turn away from ecological grief and historical violence.

Ecocide is murder.
The Earth remains—and she remembers.