performance / printmaking / process

A durational performance for "Where Metronomes Meet," a one-day show curated by Hammerspace Gallery on 11/15/25, in which I marked the passage of eight hours in seconds: 28,800 precisely. Scheduled were two mandatory 15 minute silent breaks: 900 seconds each. My collaborator CG kept time. Our shift lasted from 08:30-17:00.

From 7/17/25-8/21/25, I hosted two private dinners per week in my apartment. The poster advertising the event was anonymous. My friend Allyn managed the bookings for me so the guests remained anonymous to me as well. It only felt fair that we both took equal risk.

or, "The Woman in the Window," its de facto name given by many of my guests post-hoc. From 5/2/24-5/16/25, I lived in CYNK Studios with three constraints: no phone, no clock, no outside. "Where's the art show?" curious onlookers would ask, popping their head in during my morning cleaning routine. I'd power down the vacuum - "this is it!" - and invite them in to share a cup of tea. What I expected to be feat of endurance unfolded into a magnified demonstration of the intense need for third spaces in late stage capitalism. I received over 200 unique visitors over the span of the show, about half of them strangers, leaving as friends with whom I am still in contact.

Lithograph printed on Japanese paper, 11"x15". Many chance procedures were involved in the making of this image, as I operated purely on suggestions from other printmakers in the studio who'd become familiar with my process for the series.

2-pass lithograph on Rives BFK White heavyweight paper, 11"x15". Flipped a coin: heads black, tails teal.

Lithograph printed on Somerset Buff heavyweight paper, 11"x15". Counter-etched Chance Print #1. Drew over top, thinking about the chance involved in dreams, feelings, and the motion of life.

Lithograph printed on Somerset Soft White heavyweight paper, 11"x15". Flipped a coin to achieve image: heads black dot, tails white circle. Heads tails tails heads tails heads heads heads heads heads heads heads.

On August 27th, 2024, I promised I would make a ball every day for the rest of my life. If I missed a day, no making up for it - a gap would be left on the shelf. I stopped making the balls on 9/16/2025. I still make the shelves, might I decide to pick back up again. They are made from whatever I have lying around, from old socks to prescription medication labels. Images taken 1/10/2025.

An experiment in a single action creating multiple marks: folded cloth burned through with persistent flame.

Rust transferred from a large swath of weathered sheet metal onto vinegar-soaked canvas, left outside under tarp for two days in October. Holes made using soldering iron as an attempt to organize the image.

"The 'rule': one single line, I am not allowed to let go of the writing utensil. Go until physically impossible to continue - whether that be bodily limits (height, length of arm, etc.) or spatial (limited wallspace, etc.) OR the limits of the tool - this exercise challenges boredom and impatience - and sometimes pain."

In which I took 12 rubbings of a specific 18"x24" area of flagstone, stacked them on top of each other in sequential order, then sheet by sheet poked holes outlining the negative spaces, removing each sheet once puncturing was complete, to reveal a completely marred bottom-of-stack rubbing: proof of the human need for proper registration methods.