Shafts of hair contain maternally inherited DNA, leading me to imagine all the untold stories of our Moms, Titas, and Lolas held in my family’s hair. My ritual of growing my hair long then cutting it short is an act of renewal not only for myself, b
       
     
Salvaged (detail), 2025
       
     
  Salvaged  was featured in Litany for Survival, the culminating exhibition for our cohort in E22: Glass for Social Justice, at Transformer in Washington DC.
       
     
 “A Litany for Survival” is named after the poem by Audre Lord. Its final stanza expresses what compels our work:   So it is better to speak    remembering    we were never meant to survive.
       
     
  Salvaged   recalls ancestral memory of a sea and land-based community culture before its devastating exploitation by imperialist invasions, of societies led by female and femme shamans before patriarchal violence forced a change in narrative. 
       
     
 The “Manila” hemp and ritual rice in  Salvaged , having appeared in alternate forms in previous installations and ritual interventions, is charged with the energy of reclamation.
       
     
 Our cohort learned how to cast in glass at the Washington Glass School from our mentor, Tim Tate, pictured with me here.  The barber shop pole and my grandson’s stroller in this image give an extra nudge to my conjurings of generational inheritance
       
     
 Shafts of hair contain maternally inherited DNA, leading me to imagine all the untold stories of our Moms, Titas, and Lolas held in my family’s hair. My ritual of growing my hair long then cutting it short is an act of renewal not only for myself, b
       
     

Shafts of hair contain maternally inherited DNA, leading me to imagine all the untold stories of our Moms, Titas, and Lolas held in my family’s hair. My ritual of growing my hair long then cutting it short is an act of renewal not only for myself, but for my ancestors as well, one ponytail at a time.

Salvaged (detail), 2025
       
     
Salvaged (detail), 2025

glass casts of my and my family’s hair, bamboo, “Manila” hemp, ship cleats, washed muslin, ritual rice


  Salvaged  was featured in Litany for Survival, the culminating exhibition for our cohort in E22: Glass for Social Justice, at Transformer in Washington DC.
       
     

Salvaged was featured in Litany for Survival, the culminating exhibition for our cohort in E22: Glass for Social Justice, at Transformer in Washington DC.

 “A Litany for Survival” is named after the poem by Audre Lord. Its final stanza expresses what compels our work:   So it is better to speak    remembering    we were never meant to survive.
       
     

“A Litany for Survival” is named after the poem by Audre Lord. Its final stanza expresses what compels our work:

So it is better to speak

remembering

we were never meant to survive.

  Salvaged   recalls ancestral memory of a sea and land-based community culture before its devastating exploitation by imperialist invasions, of societies led by female and femme shamans before patriarchal violence forced a change in narrative. 
       
     

Salvaged recalls ancestral memory of a sea and land-based community culture before its devastating exploitation by imperialist invasions, of societies led by female and femme shamans before patriarchal violence forced a change in narrative. 

 The “Manila” hemp and ritual rice in  Salvaged , having appeared in alternate forms in previous installations and ritual interventions, is charged with the energy of reclamation.
       
     

The “Manila” hemp and ritual rice in Salvaged, having appeared in alternate forms in previous installations and ritual interventions, is charged with the energy of reclamation.

 Our cohort learned how to cast in glass at the Washington Glass School from our mentor, Tim Tate, pictured with me here.  The barber shop pole and my grandson’s stroller in this image give an extra nudge to my conjurings of generational inheritance
       
     

Our cohort learned how to cast in glass at the Washington Glass School from our mentor, Tim Tate, pictured with me here.

The barber shop pole and my grandson’s stroller in this image give an extra nudge to my conjurings of generational inheritance through hair.