I feel sick.
I looked up hate and that led me to genocide
and that led me to black men hanging from trees
and black women being raped
and that led me to 6 million, maybe more,
dead in the Ukrainian Holodomor,
dead children in the streets, parents going crazy
and cannibalizing their own children.

Hate, death.
And that led me to the Armenian Genocide and ethnic cleansing,
children injected with typhoid.
The poor children. Always the children.
The most innocent. Syrian children.
Native Americans dead.
Pygmies dead.
The Holocaust.
Christians murdered.
Kurds murdered.
Bosnian Muslims murdered.

I went to Uganda, on the border of Rwanda.
I saw Idi Amin’s bullets torn through the buildings still there, always remembered.
I heard the stories of the LRA stealing children
and turning them into murderers.
The talk of Rwanda is that another genocide could happen at any moment.
People living in fear.

I live in Miami. Sun-filled, beautiful Miami. Everyone’s happy.
My day is beautiful, and I meet Serbs and Haitians and Cubans and Venezuelans.
They have seen so much death.
And there are Russians and Jewish and white and black.
America hate-filled, and elitist.

My Ukrainian family would have been killed
if they didn’t make it to America.
The land of the free.
The home of the brave.
But I am so confused.
The other half of my family owned slaves.
My nieces and nephews are half African-American,
a quarter Ukrainian and a quarter Irish.
I don’t understand.
Who will they hate?


Sparkling seafoam, pretty and dewy, sexy, sexy, sexy
A sea of plastic
Sparkling plastic
A warped reunion of beautiful twenties and botox filled lips
An ocean of plastic and waste
Thrown out bottles
Smoothed out glass
Glowing lights
Opulence Galore
I love you Miiiaaammmi
I hate you Miiiaaammmi
The perfect acknowledgement of THE AMERICAN WAY
Human Forgetfulness
Full of Coconuts and Complacency
Full of Palm Trees and Thieves
Full of Hope to be a part of this AMERICAN WAY


This man is dying.
I was carried through a lake infested with parasites by a man riddled with AIDS
Months left to live I hear
Typical life in Uganda
Typical life in Africa
Americans scoff at the thought of this sadness
So far away
But we are the minority
Do they even think of that
Our luck is so large
I was carried by life and death so close to me.
He complimented me
Called me fat
Beautiful and Healthy
Full of life
He carried me to the safety of a boat
To be so close to death with a smile on your face
Still working
You are human
You are dead and in the ground by now
And I will never forget you

The Plastic Pervasiveness 2015-2018 (ongoing) Oil on Mylar

In the work that I create I seek to represent the figure as the malleable reflection of a subject. The figure is set on mylar, a form of plastic, in…

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Little Vixen Series- 2015

Little Vixens, Pretty little girls, the ideal, little vixens, how uncomfortable you feel, Little Vixens, red lips titillating, little vixens for your pleasure, little vixens, daddy’s little girl.

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The Social Graces Series 2014

Social Graces is a work that came out of researching and looking at family photography going back into the 1800’s. I analyzed and recreated images based on feelings and interests…

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