photographer / writer / artist / pilgrim

I create for the same reason I walked five hundred miles through Spain, stumbling into Santiago de Compostela on my 27th birthday with two broken feet. For the same reason that I crawled out the window of my car as flood waters rose around me and I watched ten years worth of work and memories float in the murky abyss. For the same reason I taught myself how to walk after metal crushed metal then crushed my body. For the same reason I returned to work hours after my father drew his last breath and for the same reason why I no longer consider suicide an option. I like the challenge, the discomfort, the sensation of putting myself through the hardest things I can imagine, pressure building up over and over until I am better than I was, better than I thought I ever could be.

Survival and creation are intrinsically linked in my life, propelling each other forward as I hold on with all my might. I’ve learned to turn survival into an art form, to take it’s strength and marry it to mine, folding it over and over again like castle forged metal, until the idea crystalizes in physical form and a new body of work is born. I’ve circled the globe a wanderer, continents and cities falling beneath my feet. I gave myself over as a model to the photographer’s gaze in an effort better understand my own craft and fell into the aperture on a whim.

I’m an asexual female photographer working with the nude body. I cull experiences and lessons to form an image and believe in every possibility. In March 2016, I lost most of my work created in the last decade. It forced me to be stronger, to be more honest, and to create like never before.

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