2022, 5' 6" x 5', Free-hand machine embroidery on tulle fabric, hand embroidery on silk organza. When confronted with the notion of ‘Rest’ as an idea, I find myself conflicted. What spurs this feeling of hesitation towards rest? Rest is generally thought of as being a state of inaction, yet for me it takes a significant amount of effort for me to settle my body into restorative Rest. Laying still, in bed, my body wakes up to the wear and tear I have forced her through during the day, but ignored out of fear and necessity. In my piece "Entwined Repose" I sought to capture the history of movement as I toss and turn, searching for a place of comfort. In this act of accepting rest I find strength in vulnerability. (Photography by Greg Staley)

2021, Free-hand machine embroidery on tulle fabric, hand embroidery on silk organza 6' x 10' 

It is important to note that all the color and line work seen in my work is composed purely of stitched thread and layered fabric. While my work references classical painting techniques, there is no actual paint or dye being used. Here is a glimpse of the back of the work exhibiting these multiple layers of tulle sewn together.

2021, Tulle fabric and thread on hand pulled abaca paper embedded with repurposed studio threads, 19" x 17" Without the transparent layer of silk organza, that is seen in both the "Rhythms of Healing" and "Isolation Portraits", my hand-made paper works offer an unfiltered look at my internal world as I strive for balance and self empowerment. Using reclaimed threads from my previous works and mixing them into paper pulp, I build a surface that becomes a representation of how the past can impact you in present time. (Photography by Kimber Harris-Wiegand)

2022, Free-hand machine embroidery on tulle fabric, hand embroidery on. silk organza 3" x 4" These small scale works came about in response to my time spent in isolation since the beginning of lockdown, March 2020. I needed to keep my hands busy, so I focused on projects I could complete in a days time; creating a physical record of my time spent. These moments of seclusion and detachment from the world can invite an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. However it can provide an opening for introspective discovery. (Photography by Kimber Harris-Wiegand)