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Title: Party Favor
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic doll, toy gun, miniature wooden chair, string)
Year: 2023
Description:
Party Favor presents a stark and jarring assemblage: a baby doll, suspended by the neck, holds a plastic toy gun to its temple. Beneath it lies a small, overturned wooden chair—suggesting a quiet, devastating act. Set against a dark, unadorned background, the work isolates its elements to confront the viewer with an unflinching critique of how violence is disguised as play.
Constructed entirely from child-associated objects, this piece draws attention to the normalization of brutality within consumer culture. The doll—an archetype of innocence—becomes a vessel for despair. The toy gun, brightly colored and mass-produced, evokes the real-world consequences of teaching children to associate violence with amusement.
The title, Party Favor, is pulled directly from the artist’s personal experience: encountering plastic guns sold as gifts for children’s birthday parties. By recontextualizing such objects into a scene of loss and finality, the artist forces us to reconsider what we place in children’s hands—and what kind of world they’re being invited to celebrate.
Title: The First High
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic doll, candy discs, textile, painted board)
Year: 2023
Description:
The First High is an unsettling assemblage that critiques the cultural rituals surrounding childhood and indulgence. At its center lies a baby doll dressed in old-fashioned, Amish-like clothing, positioned upside down against a void-black background. Scattered around—and stuck to—the doll are pastel-colored candy discs, visually reminiscent of both holiday sweets and recreational pills such as ecstasy.
The contrast is deliberate: the innocence of the doll clashes with the seductive, chemical sheen of the candy. What at first appears harmless and festive is quickly revealed as a metaphor for early conditioning—how celebrations like Halloween and Christmas initiate children into the cycles of reward, consumption, and overstimulation.
By inverting the doll and coating it in symbolic “treats,” the artist draws a sharp line between childhood sugar highs and the later lure of addictive substances. The piece suggests that addiction doesn’t begin with rebellion, but with rituals taught in bright wrapping paper and reinforced by systems that equate love with excess.
The title, Sweet Nothing, points to the emotional void that grows beneath this conditioning—where affection is replaced with artificial pleasure, and the sweetness offered in youth leaves a bitter trace in adulthood.
Title: Jellybean Grave
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic doll limbs, jellybeans, board)
Year: 2023
Description:
In Jellybean Grave, brightly colored candies form a vibrant burial ground for the dismembered limbs of a baby doll. Legs and arms emerge from the sugary pile, as if the body has been consumed—erased beneath layers of artificial pleasure.
The assemblage functions as a stark indictment of capitalist indifference. Candy, a symbol of joy and reward in childhood, becomes the suffocating agent of decay. The work critiques how industries target children with addictive substances disguised as treats, prioritizing profit over health—even at the cost of early death.
There is no face. No name.
Just plastic limbs and a mound of sweets.
This is not a celebration.
It is a grave.
Title: Cradle of Craving
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic doll, miniature toilet, glass vial with powdered flour)
Year: 2023
Description:
In Cradle of Craving, a baby doll sits on a small toilet, drinking from a glass vial. It looks like a bottle, but it’s the kind often used to sell cocaine at parties. The image is unsettling—cute at first glance, but disturbing when you look closer.
This artwork compares sugar to drugs. A real scientific study found that rats chose sugar over cocaine—even when both were offered. The artist asks: why do we give sugar to babies so freely, when it may be just as addictive?
By showing a baby drinking from a vial while sitting on a toilet, the piece shows the full cycle—what we feed turns into what we discard. It’s a harsh truth: the things we reward children with, like sugar, might be harming them from the very beginning.
Title: Saint Break My Soul
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (Barbie doll, wood, rope, angel ornaments, acrylic on panel)
Year: 2023
Description:
Saint Break My Soul is a haunting assemblage depicting a dark-skinned doll bound upside down to a wooden cross, flanked by golden angels pulling her arms in opposite directions. Her body, suspended in strain, is not lifted—only torn.
The piece reflects how Black women, particularly in the face of despair, are often left with religion as the only allowed form of survival. Spirituality becomes a coping mechanism—but also a trap. Faith promises comfort, but too often demands silence, obedience, and sacrifice in return.
This work also draws a parallel to the experience of Russian women—raised under a culture of suffering, control, and institutional betrayal. For many, religion replaces the state as the enforcer of morality, guilt, and submission.
The phrase “Saint Break My Soul” becomes both a prayer and a surrender: a cry for help to a system that wounds in the name of salvation.
Here, the saint does not heal—
She crucifies.
Title: The Cage
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (Barbie dolls, wire, glass container with powered sugar, Bible)
Year: 2023
Description:
Five Black dolls reach for an object trapped behind a golden wire grid. Is it a Bible? A bag of cocaine? The ambiguity is the point.
The Cage explores how women—especially women of color—are trapped between salvation and escape. Whether reaching for faith or a fix, the system cages both, offering no real way out.
Desire becomes struggle.
Struggle becomes spectacle.
And freedom stays behind bars.
Title: White Christmas
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (gift box, ribbon, glass vials, white powder, wood panel)
Year: 2023
Description:
White Christmas seduces with shimmer and satin — a perfect gift box tied in a white bow. But instead of toys or trinkets, its contents spill out in tiny glass bottles filled with white powder. Cocaine masquerades as confetti. The celebration is tainted.
This piece unravels the illusion of holiday joy in a culture where addiction hides behind tinsel and consumerism. The title invokes nostalgia, warmth, and snow — but here, “white” is substance and seduction. The gift becomes a metaphor for what Christmas has become: not a sacred gathering of family, but a performance of abundance, often masking emptiness.
White Christmas asks what’s truly being unwrapped each year. Is it love — or loneliness? Connection — or compulsion? It’s a stark reminder that the holidays should be more than what we can buy, sniff, or show off. They should be about presence, not presents.
Title: Body of Evidence
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (fashion doll, wooden cross, glass vials, white powder, thread, paint, fra)
Year: 2023
Description:
Body of Evidence is a brutal altar. A dark-skinned doll is crucified to a wooden cross, her body pierced and burdened by glass vials of white powder — a visual language of addiction, objectification, and systemic harm. Red paint spills downward like blood or currency, blurring martyrdom with commodity.
This is not a crucifixion for salvation — it’s a crucifixion for consumption. The fashion doll, already an icon of manipulated beauty, becomes a scapegoat for a society that profits from both racialized labor and addiction while criminalizing the bodies it exploits. Her nudity is not vulnerability — it’s exposure. Her high-heeled feet suggest performance, even in death.
Glittering fragments of gold and chaotic lines etched into the background evoke spiritual chaos — a failed miracle, a desecrated prayer. The star behind the cross glimmers ironically, a fallen halo for a system that sanctifies profit over people.
Body of Evidence indicts a world where women of color are hypersexualized, overpoliced, and sacrificed on altars made of powder, product, and performance.
Title: They Were Holy Too
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (fashion dolls, Bible, gold cross, rope, glass vials, paint on wood)
Year: 2023
Description:
They Were Holy Too is a stark elegy for the women erased by systems of power that claim to save. Three dark-skinned dolls hang from ropes around their necks, suspended in high heels, stripped but posed — even in death. Their bodies are marked not by wounds, but by glass vials filled with white powder, suggesting the intersection of addiction, exploitation, and racialized control.
Beneath the gold cross, a King James Bible dangles — not as a beacon, but as a weight. Salvation was promised, but not delivered. Scripture becomes weapon, not refuge.
The scratched black surface behind them is not abstract: it’s a battlefield. These marks are claw lines — evidence of struggle, protest, survival attempts. Each scrape whispers: I was here. I fought. I mattered.
They Were Holy Too insists that divinity does not belong to purity, whiteness, or obedience. It belongs to the broken, the shamed, the hung — and the unheard.
Title: Thread Count
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (doll heads, twine, wood frame, paint)
Year: 2023
Description:
Thread Count weaves a haunting constellation of doll heads — blonde, brunette, Black, brown — all bound in a shared net of twine. Their plastic faces peer inward, as if trapped in a ritual or surveillance circle. No body, no voice — just heads, hair, and silence.
The cords tighten between them, suggesting both connection and captivity. This is no gentle web of sisterhood. It’s a map of enforced femininity: tied together by expectations, comparison, imitation, and the silent threat of conformity.
The symmetry is beautiful. The message is brutal.
Each head is reduced to its role — the hair, the gaze, the makeup — while the thread marks them in a system they did not choose, but must perform within. Thread Count speaks to the invisible labor of being seen, the politics of appearance, and the way patriarchy makes girls complicit in their own containment.
They are not looking out.
They are looking at each other.
And none of them are free.
Title: Good Girl
Title: I’ve Got Long Nails
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (fashion doll, rope, red bow, wood, paint)
Year: 2023
Description:
Good Girl is a visual scream wrapped in silence. A nude doll is bound upside down to an inverted cross — her red heels pointed to the heavens, her wrists stretched wide, her neck wrapped in rope. Her hair, dyed a flaming red, is fastened with a pristine satin bow — the final insult of beauty imposed on a body already crucified.
The pose recalls both bondage and martyrdom. But there is no salvation here, no saintly glow — only the mechanical smile of a plastic face taught to please, even in death.
The red bow mocks the language of femininity: gift, decoration, reward. It’s not an accessory. It’s a gag.
Good Girl speaks to the violence of compliance — how patriarchal culture demands perfection, obedience, and silence from women, and dresses their sacrifice in ribbons. This doll isn’t punished for being bad. She’s punished for existing in a body that could never be enough.
Title: I’ve Got Long Nails
Title: I’ve Got Long Nails
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (fashion doll, rope, wooden cross, synthetic nails, frame)
Year: 2023
Description:
I’ve Got Long Nails blends satire with sorrow, using the hyperfeminine symbol of long acrylics as both armor and gag. A brown-skinned doll with electric blue hair is bound tightly to an inverted wooden cross, her limbs strained, her body nearly mummified in thick rope. Scattered around her are oversized pink press-on nails — symbols of glamour turned grotesque, power turned parody.
The title echoes a boast — playful, proud — yet the image contradicts it violently. These nails aren’t for flexing; they’re all she has left. Tiny claws against a world that tied her up before she could even point.
Her heels are slipping off. Her smile is still painted on.
I’ve Got Long Nails critiques how femininity is both performance and punishment — especially for women of color. It asks: when everything is taken from you, can what’s decorative become dangerous? Can style be survival?
Title: Bride of Sacrifice
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic doll, toy fly, caution tape, string)
Year: 2023
Description:
In Bride of Sacrifice, the artist presents a haunting tableau of innocence bound, purity distorted, and devotion weaponized. A porcelain doll in a white lace bridal gown hangs upside down, tightly bound in twine. Above her, a wooden cross marked with red thread pierces through a strip of caution tape—a stark collision of religious iconography, institutional warning, and childlike vulnerability.
The piece critiques the enduring legacy of patriarchal control over women’s bodies and destinies, especially within religious and domestic contexts. The doll becomes a surrogate for countless women and girls who have been made into offerings—praised for their silence, punished for resistance, and held hostage by ideals of virginity, obedience, and sacrifice.
This work invites reflection on how violence is often masked as virtue, and how tradition can become a tool of suppression when unexamined.
“She is not the warning. She is the wound.”
Title: Saint Catherine of Alexandria
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic dolls, metal dog collar, glass bottle with powder, religious icon)
Year: 2023
Description:
This provocative assemblage reimagines the martyrdom and mythos of Saint Catherine of Alexandria through the lens of contemporary gender dynamics and icon fetishism. A nude Barbie figure—poised, composed, and seemingly in control—pulls a chained Ken doll crawling behind her, his mouth gagged and limbs bound in cold metal links. Above them floats a miniature Byzantine-style icon of Saint Catherine, serene and untouchable, bearing the spiked wheel of her torture.
The work flips traditional power scripts, raising questions about domination, sainthood, sexuality, and sacrifice. In historical lore, Saint Catherine defied patriarchal rule, converting scholars and emperors alike before being tortured for her faith. Here, her image watches silently over a tableau of plastic bodies—gendered, manipulated, decontextualized—caught in a new ritual of bondage.
The juxtaposition of religious sanctity and hyper-commercialized dolls offers both satire and critique: is this liberation or a new form of control? Is the saint blessing this act or condemning it? Is the Barbie a prophet, a prisoner, or the executioner?
This piece challenges the viewer to confront the iconography of power: from saints to sex symbols, martyrdom to marketable beauty.
Title: The Lovers, Bound by Grace
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic dolls, rosary, board)
Year: 2023
Description:
In The Lovers, Bound by Grace, two nude Barbie dolls—one Black, one white—embrace in a tender yet defiant pose. Their bodies are entwined not just in affection, but in a black rosary, its crucifix dangling between their legs like a forbidden relic. The red heels they wear evoke both empowerment and objectification, while the backdrop of polished black paneling recalls both confessionals and commercial display.
This provocative assemblage exposes the tension between divine doctrine and human connection. The rosary, traditionally a symbol of spiritual devotion and restraint, becomes a literal chain between their bodies—suggesting how institutional religion has often sought to control, suppress, or condemn queer love, especially between women. Yet the dolls’ gaze and posture radiate warmth, intimacy, and a refusal to apologize.
The use of mass-produced toys—objects designed to standardize femininity and enforce heteronormative roles—deepens the critique. These figures are stripped of their clothes, but not their dignity. They reject shame. Their connection becomes a sanctuary carved from plastic and prayer.
Title: For Rent
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (plastic rent sign, Bible, rosary)
Year: 2023
Description:
For Rent is a stark, conceptual assemblage that confronts the commodification of faith in capitalist society. A bright red rental sign—familiar, transactional, impersonal—is paired with a King James Bible, suspended below it by a string of black rosary beads. The crucifix dangles as a punctuation mark, anchoring the uneasy intersection between spiritual symbolism and market language.
The visual juxtaposition poses an uncomfortable question: What happens when the sacred is reduced to a lease agreement? Is the soul up for rent? The church? Morality? By framing religious iconography within the aesthetics of real estate, the artist exposes how institutions once considered holy are increasingly treated as properties to be owned, marketed, and monetized.
This work also critiques how belief systems are often co-opted for political, financial, or personal gain—disconnected from their roots and sold to the highest bidder.
Title: Hanged Joy
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (Wooden cross, fabric, rope, wooden chair, acrylic on panel)
Year: 2023
Description:
In Hanged Joy, the artist presents a deceptively playful yet chilling meditation on performative happiness and the commodification of salvation. A wooden cross, painted in a repetitive pattern of yellow smiley faces, hangs from a noose of twine against a stark black background. Below it, a miniature tipped-over chair completes the silent narrative of a hanging—simple, brutal, and implicating.
The juxtaposition of bright emoji-like smiles with symbols of suffering and death forces viewers to question how society masks despair with forced cheerfulness. The work interrogates the Western obsession with positivity, especially as weaponized in religious and corporate spaces, where grief and rage are often suppressed in favor of palatable optimism.
The fallen chair—a nod to execution imagery—grounds the cross in violence, while the glossy plastic grins on its surface refuse to flinch. This is martyrdom rebranded. Trauma marketed. Salvation sold with a wink.
Title: Sanctuary Zone
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (caution tape, religious icon)
Year: 2023
Description:
Sanctuary Zone disrupts the sacred with the language of state control. A silver-plated relief of the Virgin Mary and Child—traditionally a symbol of purity, safety, and divine motherhood—is defaced by a glaring strip of neon yellow CAUTION tape, slicing through the middle like a warning across holy ground.
This assemblage reframes the Madonna and Child not as divine protectors, but as endangered figures—threatened, policed, silenced. The tape, often used to mark danger or crime scenes, becomes a metaphor for how systems of power invade the most intimate forms of care. In an age of family separation, reproductive control, and religious hypocrisy, even motherhood is no longer sacred—it’s surveilled, regulated, and made suspect.
By physically gagging this icon in plastic bureaucracy, the artist invites viewers to question: who gets to claim sanctity? Who gets to mother in peace? And what happens when tenderness itself is declared a threat?
Title: Domestic Shredder
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (cheese grader, barbie doll)
Year: 2023
Description:
Domestic Shredder is a jarring and visceral assemblage that strips the fantasy from femininity and exposes the violence beneath the pastel gloss. A brown-skinned Barbie doll, dressed in a cheerful floral sundress and pink heels, is beheaded—her head violently caught in the teeth of a cheese grater. Mounted against a black frame, the piece transforms everyday kitchen tools and children’s toys into instruments of cultural critique.
The floral print and bright accessories reference traditional ideals of femininity: pleasant, decorative, compliant. Yet her dismemberment at the hands of a domestic object reframes the kitchen—not as a place of nurture—but as a site of annihilation. This is not an accident. It’s a system.
The work speaks to the erasure and consumption of women, particularly women of color, through domestic labor, objectification, and impossible expectations of beauty and obedience. The cheese grater becomes a metaphor for how women are processed: polished, dulled, and stripped of power, piece by piece.
Title: The House That Ate the Child
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (doll, doll house, wooden board, acrylic)
Year: 2023
Description:
The House That Ate the Child is a sculptural nightmare rendered in glossy black plastic and dismembered innocence. A baby doll’s limbs grotesquely erupt from the windows and doors of a toy Victorian-style dollhouse, as though the house itself has consumed the infant and now wears its body like a warning.
What should symbolize safety—“home,” “family,” “childhood”—becomes a site of claustrophobic horror. The infant doesn’t live in this house; it’s trapped in it, fragmented and voiceless. The architecture is painted black, erasing any sentimentality and marking the structure as a tomb of expectation and trauma.
This work confronts the ways domestic environments—especially those framed as idyllic or traditional—can suffocate, dismember, and distort the developing self. The baby becomes not only a victim but a metaphor: of lost innocence, of generational entrapment, of being born into a structure that was never meant to hold the wild, vulnerable truths of growing up.
Title: Plunge Her
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (doll, head, plunger)
Year: 2023
Description:
Plunge Her is a minimalist yet scathing sculpture that takes a seemingly mundane object—a toilet plunger—and transforms it into a potent symbol of cultural degradation and misogyny. Affixed to the plunger’s base is the dismembered head of a blonde doll, her expression frozen in vacuous bliss, her ponytail hanging limp. Suspended from a hook like an everyday tool, the piece is both absurd and disturbing.
The work weaponizes humor, repurposing a domestic cleaning device into an object of female humiliation. The title—a pun on “plunger” and “plunge her”—turns linguistic play into a violent indictment. It calls attention to how easily femininity is trivialized, how beauty is used, discarded, and pressed into servitude—whether in media, marketing, or memory.
Plunge Her operates on the edge of satire and horror. It’s a punchline with teeth.
Title: Boy or A Girl
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (dolls, ribbons, pregnancy test, angels, wood)
Date: 2023
Year: 2023
Description:
Boy or a Girl is a blistering critique of how gender becomes spectacle, prophecy, and profit in American culture. A baby doll dangles upside down, bound in pink and blue ribbons — not swaddled, but restrained. Above, toy angels stretch the cords taut, turning a supposed blessing into performance. Between them hangs a pregnancy test: 99% accurate, 100% sold.
The inverted cross at the center mocks the sanctity projected onto gender reveal rituals — now commercialized into explosions, parties, merchandise, and moral binaries. The doll is not celebrated but splayed, caught in a marketing campaign masquerading as destiny.
Here, innocence is outsourced. The divine becomes complicit. And the question “boy or girl?” reveals itself not as care, but control.
Title: Dorothy Lost Her Shoe and Her Soul
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (porcelain doll, wooden cross, textile, ribbon)
Year: 2023
Description:
In Dorothy Lost Her Shoe and Her Soul, the artist crucifies the archetype of girlhood itself. Hung upside down like a martyred marionette, the porcelain doll wears a pristine white dress adorned with a bright red bow — symbols of innocence, obedience, and holiday-issue femininity. One red shoe remains, the other gone — a quiet rupture in the fantasy.
Her smile is frozen, her limbs limp. She is caught in a tableau of forced perfection, a shrine to the domesticated child-woman. Mounted on a raw wooden cross and framed like a relic, Dorothy becomes an icon of what is lost in the making of a “good girl”: autonomy, wildness, and ultimately, soul.
The missing shoe evokes The Wizard of Oz, but here there is no yellow brick road, no way home — only the hollow promise of magic through performance. This piece speaks to the ritual crucifixion of girlhood under patriarchy, where being seen as adorable costs everything that made you real.
Title: Ego Death
Medium: Mixed media assemblage (dolls, rope, wood, tape)
Year: 2022
Description:
Ego Death stages a visceral ritual of unmaking. Using dismembered fashion dolls suspended by their own hair, the piece dismantles the plastic femininity sold to girls as identity. With caution tape and stark typography, it confronts the violence of objectification and the cost of breaking free. A haunting elegy for the pretty lie.