When I am taking steps across a sidewalk or putting my key into my door at night, I see myself as an old woman on her deathbed.  Or a not so much older woman just hit by a bus.  My eyes are blinking their last few blinks, and that later-on-me is seeing the right-now-me, living her life - lucky to walk on solid ground, lucky with a place to sleep. "I was so fortunate all that time," later-on-me thinks, "All those moments I lived in time; just to move was something."  For me, fortune is more easily perceived in hindsight - even when I know I'm lucky right now, I can only savor it if I pretend it's later on or remember that it’s temporary.  To the extent that I am a creative person in the world, it is in order to investigate what makes myself and others feel grateful or hyper-alive, while simultaneously avoiding a hierarchy of states of being. "How lucky I was to be bitter and spiteful," I'll think.  "Just as lucky as I was to be in love."

I work in the mediums of audio, film, and participatory performance, often incorporating ritual in my work. I invite audiences into immersive experiences where I am often making fun of you and me and why we are - even while I am 100% dead serious.