A DROWNED HORIZON
Those Who Stayed to Watch
7 ft x 5 ft
2026
Black cotton yarn on raw canvas, duck canvas.
At the center of the landscape, a woman sits quietly on a chair lifted above the water, her feet submerged, surrounded by flamingos that circle like restless migrants , figures that appear both as intruders and displaced beings within the Everglades ecosystem. The land around her is unstable. Water rises, islands dissolve, and the horizon begins to drown.
Standing nearby are the witnesses and protectors of the land: women in patchwork dresses, stitched like living maps of inherited memory. They do not intervene; they stand in stillness, observing the damage unfolding across their ancestral terrain. Their presence carries the weight of those who have watched the slow erosion of land, culture, and ecological balance.
Alligators rise upright from the water as guardians of the ecosystem. They become sentinels of the swamp, confronting the human forces entering their territory, wrestling with the idea of invasion and protection. In the center, a roseate spoonbill stands like a ceremonial protector, a fragile but vigilant figure holding the balance of the landscape.
At the center of the landscape, a woman sits quietly on a chair lifted above the water, her feet submerged, surrounded by flamingos that circle like restless migrants , figures that appear both as intruders and displaced beings within the Everglades ecosystem. The land around her is unstable. Water rises, islands dissolve, and the horizon begins to drown.
Standing nearby are the witnesses and protectors of the land: women in patchwork dresses, stitched like living maps of inherited memory. They do not intervene; they stand in stillness, observing the damage unfolding across their ancestral terrain. Their presence carries the weight of those who have watched the slow erosion of land, culture, and ecological balance. Alligators rise upright from the water as guardians of the ecosystem. They become sentinels of the swamp, confronting the human forces entering their
territory, wrestling with the idea of invasion and protection. In the center, a roseate spoonbill stands like a ceremonial protector, a fragile but vigilant figure holding the balance of the landscape.
Around the chair, iguanas coil like invasive vines, wrapping themselves into the structure of the environment. Floating debris and fragments of land drift through the water as the Everglades slowly disappears beneath rising tides. What was once a porous, interconnected ecosystem becomes a contested territory where species, memory, and survival collide.
The Trickster’s Witness
41 in x 30 in
2026
Black cotton yarn on raw canvas, duck canvas.
This drawing imagines a figure suspended between human and animal, a quiet transformation where identity becomes porous. The rabbit, a recurring trickster in the oral traditions of the Seminole and Miccosukee peoples, appears here not as disguise but as companion and witness. Its presence suggests survival through wit, adaptation, and attentiveness to the rhythms of the land.
In the Everglades, where water, mangroves, and sawgrass weave an intricate living system, the boundaries between species are never fixed. Humans move through the landscape, altering it, naming it, dividing it—yet the land continues to remember its own logic.The merging of the face and the animal body reflects this shared existence. It proposes a different kind of portrait: one where the individual is inseparable from the ecosystem that sustains them.
River Grads
6 ft x 7 ft
2026
Silk, raw wool, cotton thread
River of Grass unfolds as a woven landscape where thread becomes water and textile becomes terrain. Suspended on a loom, the central weaving traces the movement of a river cutting through layers of green marshland. Behind it, expansive fields of felted fiber evoke the shifting surface of the Everglades— mud, vegetation, and water merging into a fragile ecosystem. The loom stands like a human-made structure within the wetlands, recalling the gates, canals, and systems that attempt to control the natural flow of water. In contrast, the threads move freely, bending and crossing like currents across the land.
Through fiber, the work reflects on the tension between nature and intervention, between preservation and disruption. The woven river becomes both a memory and a warning, reminding us that the Everglades is not only a landscape but a living system whose balance depends on the delicate relationship between land, water, and human responsibility.
