Artist Statement

     Cypress knees rise from the roots of the Bald Cypress—the Louisiana state tree. Long thought to provide structural support in unstable, saturated soil, their true purpose remains debated. Some botanists believe they aid in oxygen exchange in flooded environments; others suggest they serve as storage or stabilization systems, or that they persist simply because the tree has learned to survive where few others can. What is certain is that they interrupt space—neither root nor trunk—existing somewhere in between, defying a singular function.

     This ambiguity is what draws me to them. Cypress knees allow for freedom of form and interpretation. Their irregular silhouettes invite exploration, offering surfaces that welcome carving, and layered mark-making. My work is deeply informed by a sense of being torn between places: Cincinnati, where I reside and Louisiana, which shaped my upbringing and sense of self. I carry a desire to hold onto my Southern roots while also acknowledging the inevitability of change. During this residency, those tensions have surfaced more clearly—prompting questions about belonging, memory, and the emotional pull of land.

     Louisiana is a place of deep personal resonance for me. It holds memories of ritual, family, and culture, but also of mourning, stagnation, and loss. Like the swamp itself, it is both heavy and beautiful. Through this work, I am confronting the longing to return while recognizing that returning is not always literal. Like the cypress knee, I can stand on my own—rooted in ritual, memory, and making—and allow home to emerge from within.