wtf do you do bee?

this question has always been difficult to answer.

if you want me to be real with you, the answer is i do enough.

but i’ll tell you the story because i know that’s what you mean to know.

i started making art as a child.

i sat at my grandfather’s feet with my colored chicks

(yes i didn’t know it was unethical when i was 5)

and wood leftovers (i had my own assignment)

and stuck my hands everywhere i wasn’t supposed to

while he turned the dusty cairo balcony into a sunroom/garden

because teta wanted to spend the mornings folding laundry

without persecution by the southern sun

fast forward

i have two degrees in architecture and spent 10 years of my life trying

to squeeze myself into any of the boxes it offers as a career:

corporate monkey

boutique fancy

university professor

freelancer

design researcher

and yuck. that was traumatic.

it robbed me of every last creative bone in my body and replaced it with

insecure toxic competition. no thank you.

i survived because i kept making art. and i kept coming back.

so here’s what i have for you now.

im a maker. and what i make is always multi-dimensional.

some of the dimensions include:

x, y, and z axes

feelings (yes form follows feeling make of that what you will)

insights

pain

delight

materiality materiality materiality

journeys process messy failure and refusal to stop

fine, sometimes it’s a building, a room,

a vessel, a painting, a poem, a bench, a sketch,

a collage, a proof of concept. a big old unapologetic mess.

but always, when it is good, my hands and my heart are in it.

you can touch it and feel it in your hands and your heart as well.

here’s to the feet