My current landscape drawings have been developed in tension with 18th century notions of the sublime, focusing on abject and mundane spaces rather than grand vistas. Comprised of eroding sagebrush, weeds, and soil, they reference decay and abjection, while also depicting the beauty of the organic patterns. These drawings reflect my experience of aging and are related to an earlier photographic series, "Medusa Portraits," that explore the association of the "feminine" in Western philosophy and culture to earth and decay, as well as its biological connections to birth and life.

My experience of aging is complex and filled with contradictions: age has brought with it not only knowledge and power, but fragility and loss -- and my landscapes reflect that. Rather than depict a dazzling New Mexican sunset, I have turned my gaze downward and I find myself drawn to the eroding sagebrush ubiquitous in the high desert.

I photograph the plants with my iPhone on panoramic mode, and as I slowly walk across the scene, the phone scans the forms below. Later, working from the photographs in my studio, I draw the organic systems, exploring the tensions between pattern and complexity, order and chaos.

These are uncomfortable spaces that are meticulously rendered, creating simultaneous feelings of attraction and repulsion. They mark the day-to-day erosion of a materiality bound by time, the sublime they explore is one tempered by the abject. I find their dis-order, their decline, to be filled with movement, pattern, grace, and beauty.

In the earlier drawings of this series, I severely cropped the images so that the forms are abstracted and ambiguous, reminiscent of root systems and microscopic images of bodily vessels. Each translucent panel is layered with another drawing, reinforcing the depth of the tangled, twisted shapes and resisting the contained order of the grid.

In this series, I was interested in exploring the aging "feminine" as complex and non-binary to the "masculine" while also claiming its connections to the biological and the physical, as linked to the earth, to both life and death, order and disorder.

This piece is comprised of two layers of translucent organza, the top layer listing things I had remembered and the bottom layer listing things I had forgotten. I was interested in how personal and public events coalesce in one's memory when they occur roughly at the same time.

Invited to develop an installation addressing the theme of survival, I focused on the history of Wave Hill and the Glyndor Gallery building to create a site-specific piece emphasizing the importance of memory to survival. My goal was to mark the history of the site, to make it visible to the viewer and, by doing so, to emphasize the present as part of the dynamic continuum of time, linking our past to our future.

After researching the history of the site as a private estate and, then, a public garden from the mid 1800s to the present, I became interested in the Chinese wisteria vine that surrounds the building today -- a plant that is over 100 years old and has survived three reconstructions of the building and one fire.

I attached tromp l'oeil paintings of wisteria seed pods on gampi paper throughout the space and embedded texts, printed onto gampi paper, into the walls; these referenced personal, cultural, biological, and geological time frames. The texts, shifting in tones from light to dark grey, evoked a series of whispering "voices" emerging from the walls and encouraging viewers to make connections between the present site and its history.

Each drawing is comprised of three sheets of translucent paper hung adjacently so that the compositions, viewed from two sides, are affected by the traces of drawings and prints from the underlying sheets.

The three layers in each drawing are thin and fragile and shift with air currents, causing images from underlying sheets to move in and out of focus. Images foregrounded on one side become mere shadows when viewed from the other.

The installation was a response to my father's death, which occurred in the early spring. The walls were activated by light moving through the cut-out shapes in the wallpaper to form silhouettes of robins, present, and yet intangible.

I filled the two windows in the gallery with paintings of robins on printed rice paper and layered the paintings to create a "landscape" of birds.

The robin, long associated with spring and rebirth also relates, through juxtaposition and the handling of media, to temporality, loss, and memory.

This is a fragmented self-portrait, using the body to create a "landscape." Looking from one direction, the viewer sees the front and from the other, one sees the back.

This series of paintings is based upon the Western tradition of Vanitas, which I used as a vehicle for reflections on women and aging. The painted texts consist of fragmented thoughts about female body image and the brass plaques are engraved with proverbs -- examples of received "truths" about aging. Combining image and text, the paintings critique our cultural valorization of youth by linking notions of beauty and gender with the devaluation and fear of aging.