Grounded, from the series Puns 2025.
Speechless Tools is a new series shaped by my relationship to language—how I’ve held it, struggled with it, hidden inside it. These heirlooms are carriers of memory—objects once held close, passed down, protected. Now, I redirect their purpose: transforming them into sculptural instruments that hold both the desire to communicate and the weight of being misunderstood.
As they move from sacred keepsakes into new forms, they begin to echo the complexities of language—how it is shaped, inherited, misheard, or suppressed. These objects become extensions of the tongue, the accent, the broken sentence. Some feel like tools. Others feel like blockages I’ve carried in my body.
In this series, heirlooms function as both voice and impediment. They reveal how personal and cultural identity are often negotiated through the act of speaking—especially in a second language, in translation, or in silence. Speaking can feel like an act of exposure, of risk. These objects allow me to say something without always having to explain.
I’m not trying to resolve or translate everything. I’m allowing the materials to carry what I sometimes cannot—fear, tenderness, displacement, resistance. I am asking them to speak, but also to rest. To be broken, necessary, and unfinished.
From the series “Speechless tools.“
Molino de Maiz, brand Corona, grandmothers heirloom, 16 x 18 inches. 2025.
As they move from sacred keepsakes into new forms, they begin to echo the complexities of language—how it is shaped, inherited, misheard, or suppressed. These objects become extensions of the tongue, the accent, the broken sentence. Some feel like tools. Others feel like blockages I’ve carried in my body.
In this series, heirlooms function as both voice and impediment. They reveal how personal and cultural identity are often negotiated through the act of speaking—especially in a second language, in translation, or in silence. Speaking can feel like an act of exposure, of risk. These objects allow me to say something without always having to explain.
I’m not trying to resolve or translate everything. I’m allowing the materials to carry what I sometimes cannot—fear, tenderness, displacement, resistance. I am asking them to speak, but also to rest. To be broken, necessary, and unfinished.
From the series “Speechless tools.“
Molino de Maiz, brand Corona, grandmothers heirloom, 16 x 18 inches. 2025.