top of page


Ugliness is often relegated to the ignored or hidden. To shame. Looking through my notes, I found the word itself was almost nonexistent, as if I was unconsciously fleeing the very mention of this, as if unworthy to display or to share even in my own private record, more invisible than that I hide at the bottom of my drawer or purse. 


This piece takes fragments of personal notes related to fear, mixed with receipts, melted candle wax, and other detritus found in drawers, bags, as well as a box of discarded documents, here serving as a small shrine to a very specific shame relegated to these objects which I nonetheless collect obsessively. Both repulsed and fascinated by their apparently useless accompaniment in my personal space, yet always feeling a sense of secret security by holding them, here they take on a new form: shared with affection and light.

bottom of page