text;

When I began publicly sharing my visual work a few years back, I felt encumbered by a label, “artist”, for a multitude of reasons, but one pressing reason stood out — what did it mean for my creative writing practice? My first love — a love for safekeeping. At a young age, writing opened a door to a haven of sorts, littered with menagerie of plot-ridden narratives that imagined worlds very unlike our own. The pages listened intently at the words I had to give them and created a faithful nest of predictability on days that felt never-ending. Writing extended possibility, the promise of a reality beyond the given circumstances and a consistent home for a mind wracked with anxiety. As I grew older, words morphed gently to a more reliable magic, grounded in the everyday, reaching out with a tangible warmth of reciprocity and a knowing of the weight called upon us to be human.

Each time I find myself writing, I host a sense of hope, one step closer to a vision of the reality the little girl sought for daily.

This space holds poetry, loose stories, and other written works — some of which have been featured in small publications, others never shared before (till now, I suppose). To maintain a semblance of excitement, this space will soon also host a few text-based visual projects coming within the year. Enjoy!

If you are interested in reading a portfolio or chapbook of selected works, please reach out via email.