My work is grounded in tactile, process-driven practices that explore photography, printmaking, and mixed media. Two Weeks of Winter is a series of abstract photograms created through the wet cyanotype process, in which photographic chemistry is intentionally disrupted. By layering paper negatives and translucent materials onto sensitized paper and allowing the work to develop through prolonged outdoor exposures, each print becomes a record of intervention, transformation, and chance.

I began this body of work after moving to Houston, Texas, in 2024—a personal and creative threshold that required me to reconsider how I worked, what I needed mentally, emotionally and creatively during a life change. Houston’s intense heat and humidity became unexpected collaborators. As the paper remained outdoors for extended periods, sunlight, heat and humidity altered the chemistry and shifted the materials in ways I could not predict. Paper buckled and stained, chemicals pooled and moved, and carefully constructed layers were obscured or transformed. Rather than resisting these changes, I began to understand them as part of the work.

This shift in process became a way of thinking through transition itself. Moving to a new city meant leaving behind familiar routines and expectations while learning to inhabit an unfamiliar landscape. Similarly, each cyanotype begins with an intention that is gradually transformed by forces outside my control. I layer, expose, bleach, wash, and rework the surface, simultaneously building and erasing the image. What emerges is never entirely what I anticipated. The process asks me to accept that moving forward often means allowing something to disappear, change, or remain unresolved.

In this sense, Two Weeks of Winter is a meditation on the thresholds between one state and another: control and surrender, certainty and possibility, before and after. The work developed during a period in which I was learning to navigate a new environment, and the unpredictability of the process offered a productive parallel. After living in Philadelphia for twenty years, I chose to trust transformation and embrace a growth mindset—to recognize that the unexpected can be generative and that a loss of control can create room for something new, in my life and in my artwork.

The title Two Weeks of Winter also gestures toward impermanence. In Houston, where winter can be fleeting and difficult to define, time and season feel less fixed. The title emerged from a phrase I often heard repeated by Houstonians and evokes a temporary state—a brief interval between what has been and what is coming next. The works similarly occupy an in-between space, holding traces of their previous states while remaining open to further transformation.

Ultimately, Two Weeks of Winter reflects on what becomes visible at a moment of transition. The images carry evidence of what has been altered, erased, and retained, while remaining rooted in the possibility of what might emerge. Through the instability of the cyanotype process and the particular conditions of Houston, I have found a way to make work about change without attempting to resolve it: to remain attentive to what is ending, receptive to what is beginning, and open to the unexpected forms that can exist in between.