Tell us about your practice and how you came to making?

I never thought of myself as an artist. I studied critical economics as an undergraduate and dabbled in printmaking, but after graduating I found myself searching for a creative practice that didn’t require much space or money. I began embroidering and quickly fell in love with the intimacy of making something by hand.

A few years later, I discovered tufting, which felt like an expansion of that same language — embroidery at a larger scale, but with a physicality that satisfied me. My work now centers on textile-based forms and their relationship to interior space. I’m particularly interested in how these pieces operate within the home, not just as decoration, but as active elements that shape atmosphere, carry meaning, and subtly extend their influence beyond the immediate environment.

Do you have a ritual when it comes to making/designing work?

I’ve learned over the years that I’m not someone who relies on rituals in my practice. Instead, I turn ideas over in my mind until I feel like they need to exist in a physical form. Once something takes hold, I become fully absorbed in the process, working it through materially until it feels resolved.

Tufting has a strong association with the functional — rugs, upholstery, floor coverings. What drew you to lifting it off the floor and treating it as a fine art medium, and what does the technique itself bring to the kind of objects you’re creating?

When I started tufting I began with rugs, but quickly became aware of how inaccessible these pieces could be for many people who connected with the work. Drawing from my background in printmaking, I began to rethink what art could be—questioning the boundaries between precious and functional, and what makes something feel “untouchable”. The tactility of a piece of tufted art immediately shifts its language. 

For the past six years, my practice has been driven by a desire to alter how people interact with art and design in their everyday lives, creating work that invites engagement rather than distance.

Your process moves through several translations — from ancient artifact, to digital drawing, to finished piece, all across very different media. Where do you look for source material, and what happens to the original object as it transforms into the final piece?

I usually begin with a point of inspiration — sometimes it’s a statue at the Met, a book on Greco-Roman sculpture, or something as ordinary as a flower pot on my mom’s front steps. I’m drawn to subjects that carry a kind of historical weight, and I look for ways to investigate and reframe them.

From there, I sketch in Procreate, which becomes a space to experiment, especially with color. I think a lot about how color can shift the mood of an object, and how I can breathe new life into the subject. 

The physical making is another translation entirely. When I’m tufting, I build the image slowly, one color at a time. Once the piece comes off the frame, I spend a significant amount of time carving and shaping it, giving the surface more dimension. By that point, the original reference is still there, but it’s been transformed into something soft and tactile.

Ancient Greek and Roman objects were once as vivid and polychrome as anything made today — much of that history has been lost to time. What does it mean to you to restore that color, and how do you make decisions about chroma when you're representing forms we often see replicated today without any color?

I became fascinated with Greco-Roman motifs while researching the history of weaving, a practice traditionally rooted in the domestic sphere. While weaving existed within the home, textiles moved outward into public life, carrying social and political power. Through this labor, women influenced systems they were not always visibly a part of.

By reintroducing color to these objects, I am able to bring them into the 21st century and reclaim a kind of presence that is rooted in the home but not confined to it.

Your work pushes back against the idea that art should be kept at a distance — the tufted pieces invite touch, and the work is very playful. What draws you to that intimacy between art and everyday life, and how does it shape the decisions you make about a piece?

I’ve always been surrounded by textile art. My mom is a weaver and a sewer so there were always handmade functional items in the home like clothes, blankets, and pillows. When designing my pieces I imagine the ways they can be integrated into a space with tact while maintaining a sense of playfulness.

Is there anything you’ve dreamed of making, but haven’t yet?

I am currently dreaming up a collaboration with a fellow artist - combining wire, printmaking, and weaving to create a sculptural lamp. 

I would also love to make tufted stool covers. I made one for my stool at markets and constantly receive interest. It would be fun to design and make custom ones to match a specific space.

What’s next for you?

I’m currently pursuing my MFA in studio arts. It has been such an exciting way to push my practice and consider new mediums. I’m excited to see how this exploration will feed into my making and design practice.