About.

My work is about who we become when machines see, listen, and remember for us, and about the experiences we share but do not always have words for.

My practice began in fashion and advertising photography, where I learned to construct images with precision and control. I was good at making things look a certain way, but for a long time I did not know how to think about what that beauty meant. I made a lot of very pretty, very boring work.

In recent years, I have become interested in the things we do that do not quite make sense. We say we value privacy but choose convenience every time. We critique AI while depending on it for everything. We build identities online and then discover those identities are shaped by what others have said about us, by algorithms we do not understand, and by archives we cannot access. We claim to want control, yet we are constantly giving it away to systems designed specifically for us.

The old fear was being watched too closely. The newer one is being overlooked entirely.

I am not interested in proving these contradictions are bad or good. I am interested in the moment when you notice you are doing it too, and you realize there is no easy answer, and you keep going anyway because what else can you do.

Meet Eva Here explored how people actually behave with AI, not how we say we would. In Singapore, people made polite small talk with her. In New York, they tried to break her in under a minute. A Korean visitor was upset that she skipped the right honorifics, not because she malfunctioned but because it read as rude. The same system meant something different in every room it was switched on in.

After Ophelia traces how a character who spoke fewer than 60 times in Hamlet was buried under centuries of other people's interpretations, a pattern I recognized when I used LLMs to research myself and found invented information being repeated until it was cited as fact.

I am currently developing Conditional, a participatory installation that explores the contemporary discomfort of being both watched too closely and not seen at all. A digital mirror renders the room in full, except you.

I want people to relate to my work and to understand why I am making it, even if they disagree with me or do not have answers either. I am not trying to solve anything. I am trying to point at things we have normalized without naming them, creating a moment where someone might think "oh, I do that too" or "I have felt that but did not know how to say it."