As a disabled queer woman, I am drawn to things that are cast off or othered, to beauty that is ignored or needs to be unearthed. I want to invite people to push past their discomfort and look closer. 

Often when something has "gone bad," it has given rise to something new, but it can be hard to appreciate new growth in the shadow of our disappointment. I like the idea of spending hours meticulously crafting something that most people think of as ruined or frightening. My material usage continues the theme of reevaluating the underappreciated, as my primary medium is a type of clay that is often looked down upon and relegated to the status of a children’s craft product. The works in “(de)composed” are made with a self-imposed rule that every element must be created: every rock, popsicle stick, and bean sprout is painstakingly sculpted and detailed by hand. This mandate has pushed me to learn new ways of looking at familiar objects, and helped me notice small and often overlooked beauty in the world around me.

“(de)composed” reflects my own journey to reframe my life as a disabled person. I spent a decade only seeing the ways that my life hadn’t turned out how I had expected, and seeing those discrepancies as failures. It has only been by readjusting my lens that I have learned to appreciate the life I do have: I am finally allowing myself to see and feel the joy that is there. The pandemic has derailed many people’s expectations for their lives and futures, and we have all had to reframe our sources of joy. I hope this work can help encourage others to take a moment to observe, reexamine, and perhaps find some hidden beauty for themselves.