This series of unique color photograms developed from encounters with desert landscapes of the American West. Working without a camera, I bring plant fragments, sketches, translucent materials, and constructed forms into the darkroom, building each image through contact, layering, masking, and repeated exposure.
 

I am drawn to desert plants because their forms seem inseparable from the conditions that produce them. Blades, spines, dense rosettes, protective skins, and sudden blooms suggest organisms shaped by heat, scarcity, and persistence. In the darkroom, these structures become exaggerated and unstable. A plant may turn into an explosion, a vessel, a wound, an architectural structure, or an invented species.
 

Desert life is shaped by extremes: long periods of scarcity interrupted by sudden abundance, exposure balanced by protection, dormancy followed by explosive growth. Rather than documenting these environments directly, I use abstraction to explore the forms that emerge in response to pressure. The images move between resilience and vulnerability, containment and expansion, abundance and disappearance, suggesting imagined organisms whose structures have been shaped by the necessity to endure.
 

Because a photogram is made through direct contact with light-sensitive material, each work records both an object and an event. Transparent forms accumulate into saturated color; plant matter leaves behind traces; slight shifts during exposure produce unexpected edges and overlaps. The resulting images occupy an uncertain space between botanical specimen and imagined ecology—a landscape remembered, reconstructed, and transformed through light.