…it’s never done
learning to love dill (2019)
This piece plays with the art of referencing as an act of family-making—something we do in order to connect, to survive. As opposed to something we should shy away or be ashamed of. I want to challenge this (arguably) uniquely western and contemporary desire of wanting to create something novel or avante-garde, and in doing so, failing to acknowledge or appreciate those who have shaped us.
five centimeters per second (2018)
How do we cope with primal fears of non-existence and the urge to be and transform? How does the body deal with the tender interface between pleasure and grief?
fcps narrates a harrowing yet heroic struggle to exist, while also mocking existence itself. In this piece, we attempt to unravel the narcissistic assumption of singularity while maintaining an idea of self. We are valuable and valued, vital and insignificant, all at once.
And to answer your question: the rate at which a leaf falls.
Gingivitis exposes what it feels like to be at once loved and mocked.
Hair is our prop and ours to compose. Through tension, contortion and machine-like Gestus, we decide how to define and display our physical selves.
Yet here lies our fatal flaw: the ginger’s incapacity for camouflage.
It’s about trash, it contains trash, and it may in fact, BE trash.
cartilage is a facetious commentary on the ways in which we learn and perform dance. We break down the fourth wall, jump over the invisible wreckage and ask, “What was the motivation for this wall anyways?” (Answer: a Renaissance-born tokenizing of art-as-cultural-export).
This space is our space. We are all in it, we are all moved by it, and we are all involved in the creation of it (momentarily). cartilage attempts to spread the agency of performance between all beings involved, because the mind of the spectator is also an artist in and of itself.
ribbit is an expedited life-cycle piece, beginning and ending with the body. In between exist the sensual, silly, and seriously farcical acts of identity building, society-conforming, and relationship making.
Haha yea (2015)
In case you were wondering, “what happens when you sport oven mitts and play patty cake?” Within Haha yea lies one possible answer. The mitts become ghosts-of-touch, inciting each simple act, which then becomes an activation, which ends in transformation.
Your phone mysteriously sends a ghost text: "Haha yea blue munchkin munchkin dream is all a mystery."