“Articulately Wild.”

I want to be seen as tender. I want to be seen as soft. I want my edges to be soft. Or maybe just my softness to be edgy. I want to put my tenderness on full display. I want my heart to be seen to be heard in ways that I can only communicate through the edges of my body. I wish for my edges to melt into you. Into the ground. Into the air. I want to become an object of yearning.

At the same time I want to scream in catharsis. To hit things hard. To have bruises from a long day of work. I want the strobe lights to come from within and without. I want to let my bones crash in configurations that I thought impossible. I want chaos, I want to be her vessel. I want to be the thought that's relentless, that is a scratch that never goes away, but feels so good to itch. I want my work to be crawled back to. I want to jerk myself off in glitter and dirt and sweat.

I make work that is rooted in collective daydreaming, where we create tools together in our queerness, where we utilize the politics of bodies and space. I am obsessed with questions of the work that comes after social change: What do we do with liberation? What happens and how do we act after change has been enacted? My favorite question is have we asked the right questions.