

You know the objects you reach for without thinking? The ones that feel like YOU?
That's where my work lives.
I create illustrated metalwork, sculpture, and objects that honors your complexity and invites you to express who you are through what you wear and how you shape your space. Each piece begins as a drawing or spark of an idea and becomes something you can hold, carry, wear, or live with.
It’s where illustration meets form,
where color meets expression,
It’s where something once separate becomes a part of you.
I’ve always worked this way - moving between materials and following curiosity wherever it leads.
My first experience with metal was in high school, where I made a cloisonné dish. It was intricate, technical, a little overwhelming… and completely captivating. Not long after, I was making as much work as I could, in any medium I could get my hands on: painting, metalworking, stained glass, clay. I didn’t see a reason to choose just one. My art teacher cleared out a closet so I could have a space of my own where I could experiment, play, and try new things.
In my first college metals class, I asked to try mokume gane for my final. It’s a demanding, labor-intensive process - especially for a beginner. My professor chuckled and said, “sure, why not.” I can’t imagine she had much hope, but it was worth a shot. It didn’t come out perfect - or even functional - but it held together. I made it happen.
That instinct to make it happen - to move, to layer, to connect different ways of making - still defines my artistic practice.

That way of working is deeply tied to how I move through the world.
Those moments live in my work now - not as perfection, but as permission.
To try things I’m not supposed to know how to do yet.
To follow ideas across disciplines.
To let curiosity lead instead of limitation.
As a neurodivergent and queer artist,
I experience identity as layered, shifting, and expressive...
something that isn’t meant to be flattened or simplified.
Ornament becomes a way to hold that complexity. Not just as decoration, but as a visual language.
It’s how we signal identity.
How we find each other.
How we say, clearly and without apology:
this is what I love,
this is who I am,
this is where I belong.
My work is made to live inside that exchange.
Across everything I make, from small, accessible pieces to larger, more complex works - I’m thinking about connection. I want the work to feel approachable, something you can step into at any point. Whether you’re just beginning to collect or already living with art, there’s a place for you here. No matter the scale, each piece carries the same attention to color, craftsmanship, and care.
Because this isn’t just about objects.
It’s about what happens when someone recognizes something in what you’re wearing.
When a piece in your home sparks curiosity.
When a shared reference becomes a moment of understanding.
That’s where connection begins.
And over time, that connection becomes community.
And if you see yourself in this work—
Welcome.
You’re already part of it.
