This work explores the complex relationship between connection, self-awareness, and the objectification of the feminine, reflecting on how societal and inherited ideologies shape desire, behavior, and identity. Through two interconnected sculptural figures, the piece examines the duality of femininity as both desired and subdued. The first, a fetishized fusion of domestic and erotic symbols, 1960s lamp adorned with black hair, long nails, and a piercing hat pin, embodies the tension between comfort, beauty, and submission. The second, smaller and softer form, linked to the first by a tube, evokes the womb and vulnerability, supported by precarious hairpin legs and attached to a vacuum pump used on female genitalia. Together, the forms question how femininity is constructed, fetishized, and controlled, while the artist’s forthcoming work Mother promises a deeper exploration of autonomy, desire, and exhibitionism in contemporary womanhood.

Two words: First Word appeared at the as part of the Objectified exhibition at CICA Museum, South Korea, 2018, and as part of the Inland Neither exhibition at 198 in Brixton in 2017.
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This performance and video work explores the power dynamics of desire and the gaze, using irony and discomfort to challenge the viewer’s role as spectator. Set within a hyper-feminised, childlike environment of fake grass, pink cellophane, helium balloons, and playful props such as lollipops and a space hopper, the scene evokes innocence while hinting at sexualization. As the performer shifts from coquettish playfulness to a cold, confrontational stare, the viewer becomes the one observed, exposed under her gaze. The layered soundtrack, blending sweet 1960s & 70s pop songs with the unsettling sound of exaggerated lollipop licking, intensifies the tension between seduction and repulsion. Through this uneasy interplay, the work interrogates how femininity, youth, and sexuality are consumed and distorted under the male gaze.

Exhibited at The Other Art Fair in London’s Truman Brewery in 2016, this installation subverted the fair’s commercial art environment by presenting a raw, immersive space reflecting poverty, loneliness, and social invisibility. Drawing from her experience as a working-class single mother, the artist recreated a domestic scene using charity shop finds, hand-painted “mouldy” wallpaper, and everyday objects to evoke the decay and neglect of life below the poverty line. Inspired by stories of spontaneous human combustion, the piece symbolised the quiet, isolating despair of those who “burn out” unseen, living and fading away in solitude. Through this hauntingly intimate reconstruction, the artist questioned both the value of art in capitalist culture and society’s indifference toward the struggles of the marginalised, challenging viewers to confront what, and who, remains invisible within the art world and beyond.

This piece is an intimate retelling of my period of nightmarish reality, making an obvious reference to Tracey Emin’s work, My Bed. This work, however, was very much a representation of the lived experience of sexual abuse and depression and a period of intense mental disconnection.

A lifeless ‘body’ lies under mattress filler material, pulled from the mattress, repurposed as a blanket. The shop model, typically frozen in a displayed position with a fixed and enduring smile. Dressed in the clothes I had been wearing for days and nights on end. I used this as an disembodied, empty, numb, human-like object, as this captured me, and my sense of self, utterly eroded. I was at the time classed as a vulnerable adult, with undiagnosed PTSD, diagnosed dissociative disorder, and the perpetrator of the abuse had videotaped ‘sessions’, and he informed me amongst his many other folders of his 'conquests', he'd filed me under ’Scum’, which I knew was inspired by the SCUM Manifesto book he'd noted on my bookshelf. Next to the mattress were cups, one of which had the words ‘Good Morning Beautiful’ on it. I thought the placement was really powerful in this context. Sad, funny and tragic. The mattress was the actual mattress on which the acts of sexual violence were carried out. There is still a black restraint tied to the mattress handle. I cut the bed down the middle for this piece, and black paint was poured on it. In this way, the darkness was being visually represented for all to see, as I hadn’t told anyone about what was happening to me throughout my relationship. The notion of the mattress being the place where one can rest, and sleep and maybe even be embraced and loved. This mattress was a place of sleep deprivation, humiliation, degredation, abuse and of countless nights and hours spent drugged and desperately holding on to my mind and sanity.