The central concept of my practice is retrofuturism — imagining futures built from the debris of our past. The inspiration comes from my concern with how systems of classification and control have reduced the vitality of nature to categories of use and worth. I resonate deeply with Lulu Miller's Why Fish Don't Exist and its story of David Starr Jordan, Stanford's first president, whose obsession with classification slid into the violence of eugenics.

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Through sculpture, I envision functional artifacts from future civilizations where the balance between human ambition and nature has collapsed and nature has reclaimed its untamed will. In my process, I emphasize the physical qualities of materials and how form can carry meaning. I work with metal, wood, and plaster, preserving their natural textures and colors so the resulting works have a muted, simple color palette. Same for the form: I intentionally make clean, industrial designs so they look like functional objects that might have been used in another world.

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In Whale Fall, I used clay, metal rods, and sand to evoke bone and stone, merging the ancient image of the whale — a creature whose death gives life — with futuristic design. The piece imagines a civilization that depends on a single whale for its survival and prosperity. It fuses old materials and new forms, the ancient symbolism of the whale with contemporary mechanisms, exploring what stories endure after technology strips away mystery.

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Through these works, I invite viewers to encounter artifacts from imagined futures and, from that vantage point, reconsider their own relationship to the living world.