In this project, I endeavor to bring the unseen into the light, to make the INvisible visible.

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A Home For My Anxieties, 2025 – (ongoing)
Each jar approximately .75″ wide and 3″ tall.

Contents include but are not limited to: fingernails, cuticles, one ceramic molar crown, nail polish, cat hair, plastic (cut up credit cards), gold leaf, paper, hair, eyelashes, other facial hair, etc.

Is it an artwork about my Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder?

No. It is more universal than that. In this 21st century we exist together in, every day feels like a struggle to survive. Experts speak regularly of the link between emotional/mental health and physical, chronic illness. Internet memes remind us that women are more likely than men to receive an autoimmune diagnosis because of the ways in which they stifle their rage daily, holding it in, causing toxins or other negative bodily impacts to overrun them. Every day is a new unprecedented time on the world stage and we are a captive audience, locked in a moving car speeding towards an end we didn’t ask for.

Money. Fighting for health care. Homelessness. Begging the professionals to understand we are the experts of our own bodies and lived experiences. Asshole drivers. Stressed coworkers. Unregulated food systems. Child labor. Endless wars. The Epstein files showing us every fear we ever had was actually true and possible. Xenophobia. Fascism. The Predator class ruling countries and making laws that harm the majority and benefit the few.

I often find myself picking. Picking at the wallpaper. Picking at my cuticles. Picking at the edge of a table. Picking at my eyelashes or my nails unconsciously, physically showing my stress to the world, to anyone who might notice. I do not ever wish to appear so vulnerable, but these actions are done without my recognition, until I do recognize and stop.

I wanted to find a way other than painting and words to show the stress we are all feeling, whether we show it or not. These tiny 3″ jars fit in a pocket – even the useless pockets of jeans made for women – and are easy to carry around, to fill with one’s anxieties across the days, weeks, and years.

I have filled two so far and am working on the third.

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Invisible Labor (A Day’s Work), February 2026
Glass jar approximately 5″ tall and 2.75″ wide

Contents include but are not limited to: cat litter, wet napkins, dust, balls of hair collected from floor, lint, cat food, leaves, cat hair, soap suds, crumbs, etc.

I often say, half-jokingly, that I ‘Cinderella myself’ every day – I can’t relax or do the things I would like to do until all of my chores are done.

There is a robust discourse on the subject of the invisible labor, often carried out by women – mothers, wives, sisters, etc. – that is unnoticed, unrecognized, and most importantly, unpaid. This artwork does not seek to criticize or shed light on my specific home life, but to rather create a visible diary of the things I feel must be completed before I can sit down and do what I need to do. I believe my need to complete these daily tasks that keep my household running (and ensure that once I sit down, I am able to focus on the thing I’d like to do) is common, perhaps universal, for anyone identifying as female. Neurotypical or Neurodivergent, regardless of race, dis/ability, socioeconomic status or geographic location, the daily stress of survival affects us all. While others may not keep their home or space in the same condition as mine, the crushing necessity of daily ephemera persists.

Certainly, some of the tasks on the below list might be less or fewer if I was on my own, however, other tasks on the list would then increase. I do not have children; only two demanding cats whom I love dearly. I imagine that if this jar was created by my friends who have children, pets, and a partner, it would be different and perhaps more full than my own. I do not seek to or want to fill the jar. My aim is to record and incite a conversation on the invisible work so often done, and that must be done, but goes unnoticed.

Sometimes I wish for more hours in the day to do the things I would like to do. However, I understand very well that, much like Parkinson’s Law (1955), which states that “work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion“, this would only amount to me spending more time on the daily tasks (and the sleep required for, say, a 36-hour day) rather than having more time for leisure or completing freelance work.

The things I did on this day that kept me from doing my work (job):

• Make the bed 1
• Turn on heat 1
• Sweep floor 6
• Make breakfast
• Feed cats 2
• Wash dishes 5
• Put dishes away 5
• Wipe down surfaces 4
• Re-pot plants 3
• Wipe windowsills (condensation) 1
• Update grocery list 5
• Separating tangled, disorganized hangers in laundry room 1
• Folding laundry 1
• Bring laundry to bedroom
• Make kombucha (second ferment)
• Pick random shit up off the floor 4
• Clean the kitchen table 1
• Clear off the kitchen table 2
• Call vet/schedule cats’ appointments 1
• Bring random shit to bedroom 3
• Shake down the mayo 1
• Make lunch
• Walk around with cat for minimum 30 minutes 3
• Fluff the couch 2
• Post office – mail items 1
• Buy groceries 1
• Unpack groceries
• Check plants 3
• Water plants 4
• Make dinner 1
• Inventory cat food 1
• Fridge inventory 5
• Clean/clear out fridge 1
• Refold couch blankets
• Turn off heat 1