My work dives into the nature of intuition, exploring the silent pull that guides us. Now, as a mother, this journey is even more resonant. I’m attentive not only to what draws my own attention but also to what captures my son’s. Together, we explore the things that pull at us.

This body of work examines the phrase, “space for a string holds the potential of both focused connection and letting go.” There is a delicate balance here, a tension between reaching out and remaining centered, a concept mirrored in the simplest of human anchors: the belly button. Historically viewed as an object of contemplation or “navel gazing,” the navel serves as a literal and symbolic center of gravity, a unique biome, and a physical reminder of our bond with our mothers.

The prints in this show offer me my own meditation. Stamping the molds of my son's belly button 108 times feels like the work of a mother; delicate, messy, focused, pressure. These lines begin to resemble a string of 108 beads. Completing them offers the wholeness of existence.

Collecting and examining my husbands belly button lint feels like the work of a spouse. I appreciate the tiny mystery that only he could produce. I attempt to notice the work that is unseen and typically forgotten. I try to understand how a million tiny movements produced the present moment.

In these explorations, I'm reimagining the ways in which we might view the navel—as a map, a meditation, a key to the intuitive and the divine within ourselves and between one another.