BLOODBROLL is intended to place the viewer as an observer of snuff film experience akin to early-mid 2000s unregulated internet access.
“With the Indian” run time 04:26. 2022
"With the Indian" is a confrontation of generational degradation of culture and violence through Indian Boarding Schools and their impact on contemporary indigenous identity, including her own indigenous family. Bloodletting myself over a duration of time. Audio element is an excerpt from R. H. Pratt’s “kill the Indian to save the man” speech. The TTS file was then seeded generationally through Jukebox AI. Each generation is played in succession.
GRWM is a makeup tutorial based on an AI-generated tutorial script. GRWM is a common social media acronym meaning “get ready with me” of which followers watch step-by-step subjects methodically apply makeup. This piece was then created following the AI script against the timing of In Nature's Realm Op. 91, written by Antonín Dvořák
Blood Test Series 2021. Cow’s blood, muslin and gossamer fabric. 10x10”.
Blood Test Series Cow’s blood, muslin and gossamer fabric. 10x10”. 2021.
03:32 minute video, cow’s blood, apple (2020)
Video documented performance (2020)
Retched highlights tiny micro expressions of physical calamity and boundaries between limits in visual information and sympathetic perceptions of pain and discomfort. The eyes become a gate between health and sickness, between suffering and sublime. We are not effected, but affected by our place on the border between voyeur and bystander.
Cow’s blood, gossamer fabric, self (2020)
Documented performance. Inkjet print (2020) 9 x 13”
Nothing is more arbitrary in origin than a phone number, but in this sequence this phone number belongs solely to the artist. It is mine and has been my primary connection to the world for 12 years. If anyone were to engage with those numeric symbols in that specific sequence, they will always reach the artist until I relinquish the phone number to someone else. Engraving numbers into the my skin and then allowing it to heal reflects the temporal agency and adaptivity symbolic language has within the representation of ourselves. Neither numbers nor phone digits are living, yet their sequential specificity represents entire lives. In this performance, I am exploring the biology and personification of numeric sequences.
Mixed media installation (2020)
An archive of 9 consecutive days of QuickType generated text blocks was utilized as the source material for all text within this installation. The text was created by repeatedly selecting the first word suggested by the predictive text software. This method effectively removes all information from the data of the text. While the QuickType generated text was initially based on direct human input to generate its personalized predictive algorithm, the final output of these text blocks contains no real human intent, context, or meaning. We use personalized cerebral algorithms to decipher, understand, and predict the text and language around us as we interact with our world. In this installation, there is a cybernetic space shared between machine and human that neither party quite understands. Familiar but foreign; both the software and humans attempt to decipher recognizable input into predicted patterns out of presented data that contains no information.
Mixed media installation (2020)
8 x 5.5 x 2 ft steel, looped kinwashi paper, and ink (2019)
I wrote this for you, but it is not really for you. I wrote this for myself and I wrote this for him. He is the true, subject you. I wrote this so that each mobius thought will drive him mad. But maybe you mad too. Because I wrote this for you, but not really you. It might eat at you. What I have I scrawled for you on feet upon feet of paper? It is just there. Waiting for you. You could take it if you reached just a bit farther. If you climbed into the rafters and nested like a dove, my words would be endlessly in your hands.
I made this for you, but I wrote this for you. I know it is in vain. By Sunday, I’ll remain irrelevant all the same. I made you this letter folding upon itself over and over. Doubling over into a metastatic ode that continues to grow link by link. You will be remembered until each page erodes away.
Reclaimed wood flooring and artist's daughter's first year keepsakes (2019) 114”x 138” x 26”
This piece is act against time. The sloped angle of the form is analogous to a drop ladder of an attic, and atop this form delicately rests the evidence of my daughter’s first year of life. Reflections upon the passage of time are a constant theme in the thoughts of all caregivers.
I was the first to ever hold my daughter. I caught her into this world. She once fit in my arms. She once slept on my chest. I feel her tininess slipping through my hands into toddlerhood, soon further from me into personhood. I want to catch her moments. I want to preserve them forever, but I can’t. I will turn my eye and she will have grown to the size of a forest, but I remember her as a seedling. As time presses forward, I am only able to preserve relics as evidence of her past.
24” x 23” x 25” expanded steel mesh, silicone caulking, silicone sheets, foaming epoxy (2017)
Cut like a Portal was an experiment with finding spaces and forms within a body. I began this piece a few months postpartum. My flesh hung off my body like strangers’ sheets. It was cut and folded and no longer felt like my own. Skin felt alien and artificial, yet delicate and ruffled. It was healing and beginning a new, but the raw, cold stranger flesh still stuck to my bones. Cut like a Portal is a physical grappling with the contrasts in my identity as both maiden and maternal.
expanded steel mesh, silicone caulking, silicone sheets, foaming epoxy (2019) 16 x 14 x 10”
71” x 10” x 17” Expanded steel mesh, expanding foam, silicone skin suit, silicone sheets (2018)
