Collaging began as a way to navigate the tangled labyrinth of physical and emotional hurdles The meditative act of layering paper to create playful, surreal abstractions and narratives that surprise even me. Each collage feels like assembling fragments of forgotten dreams, transforming chaos into cosmic order.

I am a bibliophile with an affinity for rescuing discarded books and magazines from dimly lit bookstores and forgotten free libraries. These relics find sanctuary in my studio, only to be torn apart and reconstructed into otherworldly compositions. In my hands, women become larger than life, their bodies emitting radiant beams of visible light, reclaiming space once denied to them. For the past four years, I’ve been immersed in a series where paper dolls traverse celestial realms, inspired by a serendipitous encounter with a book on Space Art and how the United States commissioned artists as a part of the WPA to create art inspired by space in the 1960s. These paper dolls include illustrations of 1960s fashion, Frida Kahlo, and Alexander McQueen’s collections all drawn by the talented Tom Tierney.

My work challenges societal norms: Why does culture place such weight on women’s bodies? What narratives can we rewrite by reimagining these constructs? I delight in juxtaposing images that clash and complement, forging new visual stories from their tension.

During my undergraduate years, I spent hours submerged in the darkroom, the scent of developer and fixer clinging to me as I emerged back into the light. That tactile magic continues to inform my practice. Inspired by surrealists like Andre Breton, Frida Kahlo, and Hannah Höch,

In the future, I aim to merge analog photography with collage in upcoming works, inviting communities of all kinds to co-create. Through workshops and conversations, I ask: What does a creative city look like to you? Together, we cut and glue it