To be gender queer, one must bend and break the structure of gender before rebuilding it from the ground up. One must let themself organically explore identity and exist in a perpetual state of springtime where they grow, bud, bloom, burst, and start anew. Like a lavender sprig or a ginger root, they rely on the rain, sun, and clouds to nurture them. So, for my project, I created a spring sky of queerness and love. To do this, I had to break and bend the images before rejoining all of the pieces. The beautiful thing is, these images can be made over and over, each one unique, and each one expressing a new cycle of love and life.

There is community in queerness. In order to signal to others that we belong, queer folx use our appearance to express who we are. In doing this, and being part of a community, queerness has the ability to become collaborative. I worked with close friends of mine to create a space where we could help one another explore what it means to be queer (although it is important to note that there is no one definition). This took the form of a many hour long haircut session. We laughed, we gossiped, we listened to music, and we enjoyed the company of one another. But most importantly, the subjects of my photographs were able to help each other affirm their queerness. It was an act of love and community.

I created this book and quilt using the most complicated and physical processes I could in order to represent the love and labor that goes into being a part of this community.

Home is something that we must sculpt, shape, and build for ourselves. The more I think about home, the more embodied it feels; it is less about the physical space and more about the people who occupy it. But how do you tell someone that they feel like family to you? How do you tell them that they are a warm fire, a home-cooked meal, a fresh load of laundry, a hot cup of tea?

This project is intended to be a physical expression of friendship. With my own hands, through analog photography and papermaking, I have composed a visual love letter for the people that I call home. I chose to make the paper in order to put myself into the work physically. Additionally, I shot photographs of tender moments experienced in our home to capture the joy collectively cultivated there. By combining these processes, I hope that my audience will understand how bittersweet this senior year has felt.

Home is love and because I am loved, I am home.