An interdisciplinary project that situates my matrilineage alongside larger notions of landscape, home, and gender. For the past year, I have researched the land homesteaded by my great-great-great-grandparents near Almena, Kansas, ten miles south of my native Nebraska and an hour’s drive from the geographic center of the United States. The landscape is vast, indistinguishable farmland. History reveals more absences than answers. Two 150-year-old trees at the site and a nearby pioneer cemetery where my maternal grandmother, her mother, and her mother’s mother are all buried, are vague markers of this history. In my return to this land, my matrilineage is subsumed by Mother Nature. The work archives and memorializes what remains of this place—personally significant and universally forgotten—while considering the ways certain histories are privileged over others.

For Apartment 404 Not Found I moved my home into the gallery. I then documented the installation as a 360-degree virtual reality (VR) image before removing all of the furniture. A half-circle "orientation table" similar to what you might find at a hilltop vista, sits in the center of the space, the absent objects depicted on its surface. The dislocation of relocation is exemplified by the juxtaposition of physically standing in a vacant space while viewing that same space in virtual reality filled with the belongings of home. The furniture from the installation—packed atop a moving pallet, wrapped in plastic—became a sculptural object alongside the VR installation. My home remained empty for the duration of the exhibition.

Through this collection of objects offered and acquired for ‘free to a good home’ on Craigslist, I construct an image of home based on the things within it. Everyday objects gain importance through personal histories and associations. At times poetic, at times mundane, the pages within document the ads and subsequent email exchanges, offering a glimpse into the online interactions of the anonymous. From a classic 1940s sofa to an underwater camera case, the ephemera of one home assumes life in another, each object connecting every home. Available for purchase at Printed Matter (New York, NY) and Amazon.com.

Each Orientation Kit includes one Compass Plant seed, a plant indigenous to the prairies of the Midwest that orients itself in relation to the sun, a bottle of homemade Rooting Hormone from the cottonwood tree, and dirt from my childhood home. I mailed one kit to each of my previous 20 addresses.

Compiled FaceTime video of my older brother and younger sister describing memories of our childhood home to me. Meant to be viewed on a handheld device. Visit https://vimeo.com/150124810 for optimal handheld viewing.

By color matching a series of family photographs with interior paint swatches—each of which has an evocative name—I turn personal images into abstractions—universal ideas—that also operate as found poems. Using the palettes established by these photographs, I painted found objects in singular, flat colors. Installed in a gallery space, the color of the objects extends to include the pedestals on which they sit and the architectural aspects of the gallery.

The bed is the most intimate of spaces. Over the course of one month, I took aerial photographs of my sheets each morning. The space of the intimate becomes the place of the immense in which the daily movement of the sheets stands in for seas swirls: the Atlantic Ocean that separated my two homes. A Unique Edition of 30 with 3 Deluxe Editions (+2 APs). Each edition comes in an archival box with a signed and numbered copy of the book, as well as a signed, unique print of the photograph. The 3 Deluxe Editions come with a USB containing a universal file for the Seabed video.

Wind Works represent a series of projects I completed as I navigated life between two cities: Baltimore, MD and Rabat, Morocco. The wind is a metaphor for both uprootedness and connection, realized through an installation, a video depicting transliteration from English to Arabic, and a fan made from scratch.

Google Street View does not exist in Morocco, but with the release of the Google Street View App in the fall of 2015, users are able to capture and upload their own 360 degree street view images using their personal devices. If the user fails to capture the sky overhead, a black hole appears in the image. This piece shows all of the black holes in the digital Google Street View sky over Morocco, collected by taking screenshots while searching through all of the images. They are arranged in ascending order, so the smallest holes appear at one end of the line of images until the screenshot finally becomes entirely black. This references the gap between one's experience of a real place and one's experience of that place through digital representation.

An ongoing project in which I photograph views from inside “paradise” looking out and then publicly upload the photos to Google Maps. By applying the principles of psychogeography to the digital landscape, "Views from Paradise" uses language as a means to subvert our understanding of place (i.e. paradise) and insert poetics into modern methods of navigation (i.e. Google Maps). Hosted by Project Anywhere, a global blind peer evaluation exhibition program.