exploring the threads between image and word gesture and thought rooted in collapse-informed design and more-than-human worlding
About
Exploring the threads between image and word, gesture and thought. Rooted in collapse-informed design and more-than-human worlding. I work at the intersection of art, ecology, and systems. Through my art and writing practice, I document and disturb. My practice is collaborative, embodied, and low-tech.
Writing
I write non-fiction, mostly about the activism I am involved in, as well as speculative fiction that is lyrical and rooted in the real. My bibliography offers a selection of texts, drawings, and collaborative works, available as a PDF for download here. Also, find me on substack.
Speaking
I give invited keynotes and public talks on the concerns that shape my work. These include ecological collapse, degrowth, more-than-human futures, feminist and decolonial practices, and the role of the arts in reimagining the possible.
I speak from the ground I walk — as a practitioner embedded in community processes, as an artist drawing live in the thick of it, and as a researcher of resilience. I use storytelling and systems thinking to invite new imaginaries, grounded in the urgency of now.
Graphic Recording
Graphic recording is live visual facilitation — listening, synthesising, and drawing conversations in real time. At fora, assemblies, and gatherings, I hold space by translating complex discussions into images that map ideas, emotions, tensions, and possibilities.
Why do I do it? Because drawing makes things visible that spoken words alone cannot. Because collective memory is fragile and often unspoken. Because visual language can hold contradiction, nuance, and emergence — especially in moments of rupture or transition.
It’s not just about summarising — it’s about sensing the pulse of a group and rendering it visible, live, with care.I am also interested in more-than-human artistic collaborations.
Art
Katazome is a traditional Japanese stencil-dyeing technique that uses hand-cut resist patterns and natural pigments to shape textiles into stories. I was drawn to it for its patience, for its silence — and for the way it weaves intention into every layer. The process is tactile, slow, and intimate: cutting the stencil (katagami), applying the rice paste resist, dyeing, and washing.
My drawing practice runs parallel — not in sketchbooks, but in movement. I draw to hold gestures, to slow down speech, to trace what’s just beyond words. Both katazome and drawing are, for me, practices of listening: to material, to memory, to the more-than-human world. I am also interested in more-than-human artistic collaborations.
