Stop Cropping Out The Tents
After her murals from the Santa Ana Riverbed are lifted into a downtown gallery, a young artist finds herself trapped between hunger, guilt, and the people her work was never meant to leave behind. What follows is a surreal reckoning with visibility, ownership, and the violence of being admired without being understood.
Writing The California Fever Dream
“Outside, the sky began changing colors like it was unsure which version of the sunset to run. A Joshua Tree caught fire, silently. Beautifully. And then reassembled itself in reverse.”
— Static at the edge of 29 Palms
“She could taste the day. Hot pennies. Sunscreen. The faint chemical sweetness of melted plastic… She told herself this was normal. California normal. A climate that didn’t ask permission.”
— What California Makes
“The heat was biblical and immediate. By the time she had crossed the wash and climbed the low rise beyond it, her shirt was sticking to her back and her thoughts had gone strangely bright around the edges.”