Part of the Earth Remains constellation
Earth Speak is a series of paintings and cyanotypes made in direct collaboration with the ground. Some works are composed with foraged pigments—wildfire ash, limestone dust, mineral greens. Others are created in situ, exposed to desert sun, wind, and dust. Each piece begins by listening—through the body, through place, through dream.
The voices held here are many: the grief of wildfire, the memory in stone, the murmur of unseen roots, the dream of renewal on the far side of loss. These works move between personal elegy and geological time, spectral presence and imagined ecologies.
Here, material becomes voice and surface becomes testimony. The earth does not speak in words—but it speaks. And I am listening.
Dreaming of Green Places on the Other Side (1&2)
Made with natural earth pigments, including Mayan Green and wildfire ash from Umbria, Dreaming of Green Places on the Other Side envisions landscapes that exist beyond loss—felt, but unseen. The paintings linger at the threshold between destruction and renewal, memory and the unknown. They are meditations on what still lives in the aftermath—imagined ecologies, spectral growth, and the dream of return.
oil on canvas, 30×48″ & 12×12″, 2024
Stoneborne Murmurations
A quiet meditation on material memory and geological time, Stoneborne Murmurations emerges from the layered histories of land and stone. The limestone pigment, foraged from Lindisfarne Holy Island, carries traces of ancient waters and shifting landscapes, embedding the spirit of place within the canvas. This piece echoes the murmur of earth’s slow transformations—the movement of wind over rock, the etchings of time in stone. It is a contemplation of loss, resilience, and the deep temporal rhythms shaping our world.
oil on canvas, 12×12″, 2025
Subterranean Realm
There’s something alive beneath the surface. A slow, quiet movement—roots pushing through stone, time pressing itself into the body of the earth. This painting carries that tension between what is hidden and what is becoming. The texture feels ancient, eroded, yet full of breath. I think about what exists in unseen spaces—the architecture of roots, the memory held in stone, the way the earth moves even when we don’t notice. This piece is part of that listening.
oil on canvas, 12 x 12 in., 2025
Death in January
The month Los Angeles burned. I was born and raised there. My grandparents’ home was reduced to ash in the Eaton Canyon fire that swept through Altadena. The landscapes that shaped me are gone. Death in January is painted in pink—the color of wildfire retardant dropped from the sky, mixed with ash gathered from the fire itself. A quiet elegy, this work is a record of destruction and what remains.
oil on canvas (triptych), 18 × 12 × 1 in. (each panel 6 × 12 in.), 2025
Earth Speak
This piece is made entirely with foraged earth pigments—matter gathered from the ground, transformed through touch, and revoiced through paint. I experience it as a kind of geological self-portraiture: the earth expressing herself not only through time, but as presence. Each curve and grain feels like a gesture from the land itself—a trace of becoming, an emergence.
oil on panel, 12 x 9 in., 2025
Desert Under Water
Cyanotype on cotton, created in the Sonoran, Mohave, and Joshua Tree deserts, 2020
Made in searing heat beneath a lockdown sky, Desert Under Water is a cyanotype series created directly on site. I laid cotton fabric across the desert floor and let the sun, wind, and dust leave their marks. The images that emerged were unexpected—like a desert submerged. As if the land itself remembered.
In the Sonoran, I looked down and saw ancient sea shells at my feet—remnants of a vanished sea beneath the sand. A testimony to what once was. And what may return—not through ancient cycles, but through human-caused climate collapse and rising waters.
These images are acts of co-creation.
The desert spoke. I listened. And the images emerged.
