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Posted On: October 30th 2026, 02:53 pm
Being in the season of Scorpio, we are called to see what tethers we tend, and what we prune. This piece, Tending connections of the Web, shares an intimate look into two people holding each other in deep dark waters. Our lives are a web of interconnectedness. We, the weavers of our worlds, tend to each point of connection through time like a spider tending fine silk threads.
At a glance, this magnetic-closing frame might look like something from HomeGoods. But hours of labor went into transforming recycled plastic into a design that traces back to embroidered mirror frames of 1680s England, under the pompous reign of Charles II.
That reign ran on hidden labor, from the Royal African Company he chartered, which drove England’s slave trade, to the unnamed girls who stitched the frames of his era. So it feels apt to make a piece that hides its own labor. A cyanotype-style print, plastic waste spun into filament, and weeks of detailing by hand.
Plastic was born imitating privilege. Early plastics were made to replace ivory and tortoiseshell. Like Baroque gilding, it shines on the surface and hides where it came from and where it goes. It may be the most Gothic material there is. It doesn’t decay. It simply persists.
Making plastic beautiful carries its own risk, but precious things are kept, not thrown away. Plastic never composts, so we tend it instead, folding what was refuse back into the work of holding memories.
This is art meant to hold contradictions, because truth is more nuanced than simply saying that is good and that is bad. And in discovering nuance, I believe we find compassion for ourselves and one another.
My series One Season Holding Another is part of the upcoming show at @waterway_arts , curated by @kiahtinkham and @evapushkova . Come see these recycled plastic frames alongside a few beautiful, thoughtful artists at the opening, Friday, November 6th, 5–8 pm, during First Friday in Turners Falls, MA.
At a glance, this magnetic-closing frame might look like something from HomeGoods. But hours of labor went into transforming recycled plastic into a design that traces back to embroidered mirror frames of 1680s England, under the pompous reign of Charles II.
That reign ran on hidden labor, from the Royal African Company he chartered, which drove England’s slave trade, to the unnamed girls who stitched the frames of his era. So it feels apt to make a piece that hides its own labor. A cyanotype-style print, plastic waste spun into filament, and weeks of detailing by hand.
Plastic was born imitating privilege. Early plastics were made to replace ivory and tortoiseshell. Like Baroque gilding, it shines on the surface and hides where it came from and where it goes. It may be the most Gothic material there is. It doesn’t decay. It simply persists.
Making plastic beautiful carries its own risk, but precious things are kept, not thrown away. Plastic never composts, so we tend it instead, folding what was refuse back into the work of holding memories.
This is art meant to hold contradictions, because truth is more nuanced than simply saying that is good and that is bad. And in discovering nuance, I believe we find compassion for ourselves and one another.
My series One Season Holding Another is part of the upcoming show at @waterway_arts , curated by @kiahtinkham and @evapushkova . Come see these recycled plastic frames alongside a few beautiful, thoughtful artists at the opening, Friday, November 6th, 5–8 pm, during First Friday in Turners Falls, MA.
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