In 2020, I was attempting to finish my MFA degree while quarantining at home, working reduced hours in a restaurant and struggling with the unemployment benefits system. In this period of collective crisis, making art felt pointless. The objects in my home that were made and given to me by dear friends reminded me of the sense of connection and joy I take from art, especially when I feel lonely.
When my plants wither, it feels like a reflection of my own setbacks
Taking care of myself and my plants can be an uphill battle
Kate not Katie: Why I dropped the ‘i’ in my name
As I got older, my name started to feel like a too-small sweater
