Coastal Louisiana holds memories in its skin. They are fragmented, fragile. Held by Soft Ground is rooted in the shared existence/resistance of myself, my community, and this landscape. The shifting ground of south Louisiana mirrors the body’s instability: what has been built here sinks; what remains does so against expectation. Through slowed, deliberate processes of making, these images linger between visibility and erasure, tracing where bodies and land overlap.

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In a moment where queer visibility is celebrated in the art world yet continuously weaponized and commodified socio-politically, obscured forms trace a refusal: not to be unseen, but to unfasten what visibility demands. To complicate the gaze is to protect the truth of one’s becoming. These images rest in that tension between imprint and disappearance, where queerness moves like water through soft ground, held for a moment before returning to the earth.