Dinner Party

Gender equity in the arts is not only about equal representation—it also demands that we reimagine how stories are told, how experiences are valued, and how knowledge is shared. My practice engages with the idea that representation alone does not capture the complexity of lived experience, especially for those whose identities have been historically marginalised or misread. To me, equity means asking who is included and how we listen, feel, and respond to their stories. It means challenging dominant narratives and creating room for voices, forms, and emotional truths often overlooked or undervalued. My work invites reflection on whose stories are embedded in the spaces we move through—whether domestic, public, institutional, or imagined—and how those spaces carry traces of memory, power, and identity. I am interested in the quiet or invisible forces that shape our lives: memory, cultural dislocation, emotion, and personal history. These forces are often difficult to articulate, yet they define how we relate to one another and our environments. Through installation, painting, and the use of everyday objects, I explore how personal and collective histories become imprinted on our surroundings. What does it mean to inhabit a space that remembers something you’ve forgotten? How can visual language trace not only what is seen, but what is felt? These questions are central to my exploration of memory and identity, not as static archives, but as evolving, relational experiences shaped by movement, distance, and time.

My process often involves mapping emotional geographies: the feeling of a kitchen filled with stories, or the eerie familiarity of a place from childhood. In doing so, I centre the sensory and intuitive as legitimate ways of knowing. This approach disrupts hierarchies between intellectual and emotional labour, aligning with feminist and queer methodologies that resist objectivity and celebrate subjectivity as a source of power and insight. Gender equity becomes not just a theme but a framework that informs my approach to making, sharing, and thinking about art. I see art as a space for care, slowness, and reflection—counterpoints to systems of productivity and visibility that often marginalise those who cannot or choose not to conform to them. By foregrounding personal narrative, embodied experience, and relationality, I hope to contribute to a broader, more inclusive conversation within the arts that holds space for vulnerability, complexity, and transformation. Ultimately, my work encourages audiences to consider whose stories are held in the spaces they occupy, and how those stories shape their own. It is an invitation to look closely, to feel deeply, and to honour the unseen.