At the core of my multidisciplinary practice is sound.

Sight as sound. Sound as sight. Seen, felt, embodied. Sometimes interchangeable with an ease that only true memory knows.

I think about sound as a physical force, a social practice, and a carrier of memory. Not only something heard, but something that moves through the body, shifts attention, and gathers meaning over time. My work moves between performance, installation, and listening. Performance not just as presentation. Listening not simply as voyeur, but as community witness. Hearing beyond sight lines. Feeling for what is present, what is missing, what is just outside the frame…Sound and vision are primary conditions through which meaning emerges for me. I never ask which comes 1st…I think of sound as an embodied phenomenon. It lives in breath, vibration, resonance, duration etc. It enters the nervous system and changes how we orient ourselves to the world. Movement/Motion is also very present in my work in my work whether seen with the eye or not. Motion is investigation. A way of asking how sound is absorbed, in the body and spirit. Through sustained physical practices, long-duration sound performance, improvisation, and repetition I study and thrive in shifts of awareness. I am interested in the places where sensation becomes thought, where thought becomes sound and where the gestures from this can expand sonic and visual possibility.

My thinking comes from many places. Outsider art. Folk traditions. Neuroscience. Systems theory. Storytelling. Experimental music. Historical truths and historical lies. Things inherited. Things invented. Things remembered incorrectly and somehow made true through repetition….I am particularly interested in feedback loops. Small shifts accumulating. Patterns appearing almost accidentally. Systems learning to reorganize themselves. Ritual changing under pressure. Improvisation is one of the ways I investigate this. It is a rigorous conversation between structure and uncertainty, memory and immediacy. What may look intuitive from the outside is often the result of deeply embedded internal architectures built over many years for me at this point.

My saxophone/musical instrument training and lineage is at the absolute base of everything. I have been playing and participating with such tools for 46 years now. Professionally for over 30 of those. It has been one of my life’s great privileges.

My deep training in jazz and experimental music is there in every idea, every whim, every movement, gesture, motion. It is in the way I listen, understand time, image, silence, interruption, gesture, tension, humor and release. It is not a reference point. It is a deeply rooted part of my nervous system. I am not a jazz musician or jazz artist in the traditional sense, but I am a multidisciplinary offshoot of sorts… My self study intersects with different diasporic performance traditions, where sound can be inheritance, memory, and a technology for being together. I am drawn to practices that understand listening as a collective act, and to histories where power and identity are carried through gesture, silence, and song. Meaning can fracture or accumulate. Sometimes the contradiction is the meaning…

I am in some sense a hybrid of many American art traditions. I live and thrive in the cracks between them, despite sometimes feeling misunderstood. I don’t have models anymore as much as I am trying to create one of my own that I hope will add to the “universal quilt” of makers making, for the joy and hope of it. I am very interested in leaving a legacy that reminds artists that their possibilities are endless.

Embodied self study is central to my practice.

In terms of sometimes feeling misunderstood, my process ( not the outcome thankfully) can confuse people. A visit to my current art and sound studio can feel like a kind of koan. This amuses me. It is an interesting conundrum, and also a place of real privilege that I do not take lightly. I am a private maker when it comes to process. My current studio is a place of deep concentration, contradiction, failure, repetition, obsession, and discovery. I share what I can while I am making, but much of the work begins in solitude.

I have always followed an open and curious line of inquiry. I was encouraged to do this, and I have carried that permission with me. As I become more rooted in being known by others outside of my community, I sometimes feel a new kind of questioning around the breadth of my practice. As if moving across forms means moving away from a center. As if the work is somehow less serious because it refuses to stay in one place.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The breadth is part of the practice. The connections are part of the practice. I am interested in what happens when things that are not supposed to belong together begin to speak to one another. The work I share is meant to sparkle a little, even in it’s sometimes surface chaos lol. To remain open. To create a place for questioning and hope. I am also neurodivergent with a specific official diagnosis that really speaks to the way in which I move in my own process. (This part of my inquiry I do plan to share more with others as I think there are a lot of people like me who could stand to hear about it. Stay tuned for that.)

But in short, I want to make immersive listening environments rather than fixed narratives. I want the witness to enter a shifting perceptual field where sound, image, and action circulate around one another, perhaps get lost on occasion.

Repetition becomes ritual. Ritual becomes disruption. Disruption becomes another kind of knowledge.

I am interested in how individuals and groups process information, negotiate contradiction, and encounter truth as something embodied and alive.

Ultimately, my work asks how listening and looking might be retrained.

I am interested in sound as a way of rewiring perception, recalibrating the nervous system, and opening new possibilities for being together. Community is very important to me, specifically community that sits outside of hierarchal, institutional structures. I struggle within institutional frameworks, which is quite ironic considering, but I keep trying to find a good way to contribute in these spaces as well. It is a constant work in progress…

There is a very private, solo-driven root to my practice as I have previously mentioned, but I go inward to build conditions for something collective in the end…

I want to create spaces where sound/vision is felt, seen as much as heard/watched. Where attention slows down. Where awareness sharpens. Where joy is possible. Where difference does not have to resolve itself in order to belong.

Lastly, I am very bad at self-promotion.

It’s fine.

My job is in the work.

thank you for reading this maze of possibilities:).