“What We Carry” — Bones with sterling silver inlay 2016- ongoing.

I work with bone.

Not as symbol, not as shock — but because bone is the most honest material I know. It does not perform. It does not apologize. It is what remains when everything superficial has fallen away. It is the architecture beneath the architecture, the thing that holds us up when everything else has failed. And it endures. Long after we are gone, the bone remains — still carrying, still witnessing, still telling the truth about what we were.

I press sterling silver into bone. Words, mostly. Single words. The ones we don't say enough, the ones we carry so deep inside us that they never make it to the surface. I have been asking what it means that we hold all of this inside us and still manage to withhold it from one another. I have been watching a heart decompose under glass and thinking about America. I have been thinking about the 84 unarmed Black men and boys whose deaths I marked in jagged, unsmoothed silver — left raw on purpose, because there is nothing smooth or finished about any of it.

Nothing human is one-dimensional. Neither is this work.