(W)hole (2025)
Mixed Media Interactive Photo Installation
Materials list: Laser cut circles on Luster photo paper, metal table, chair, thread, petri dishes, X-acto knife, saliva, earwax on cotton swabs, hair, wood (circular cucoloris), black acrylic paint, transparent paper, and light
Room: 88 x 126 inches
(W)hole (2025) is a continuation of the work I began last year, using black and white self-portrait photography as a medium to explore identity, confusion, and the emotional process of piecing myself back together. In the earlier iteration, the photographs were submerged in a photo washer, creating the illusion of being trapped beneath glass. My face was pressed against the surface, leaving behind visible smudges—thumbprints acting as subtle, but powerful, signs of resistance and presence.
In this iteration, I wanted to push the concept further—both visually and conceptually. Instead of using the photo washer, I created fragmented, laser-cut photographs and placed them inside petri dishes. These punctured images evoke the physical act of erasure, dissection, and fragmentation. The dishes also contain personal biological materials—saliva, hair, fingernail clippings, and earwax. The inclusion of saliva references the Ancestry.com DNA test that revealed a painful family truth: that the man I believed to be my father is not "my real dad."
The circular, cut-up portraits inside the petri dishes give the work a scientific, almost forensic quality. It feels like an identity study—an experiment missing key data. This fragmented presentation mirrors the internal disarray I experienced during that time: chaotic, incomplete, but still searching for resolution.
Some photographs hang suspended by a thread—delicate, barely holding on—symbolizing how I felt in the moment I learned the truth. Everything I thought I was, I was not anymore. I felt unmoored, confused, and in pain. The thread represents the thin line between holding on and falling apart.
Yet, even in its disarray, (W)hole (2025) is not a hopeless piece. It speaks to rebuilding—slowly, imperfectly. Though the pieces may not all be there yet, there is still movement, effort, and hope. This work captures a moment in the long, nonlinear process of healing and understanding. It’s about trying to make sense of a shattered narrative, searching for answers in places that often only lead to more questions.

















