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Dinner (2026)
I had dinner with friends recently, nothing unusual, except for the quiet sense that we were all avoiding certain conversations. Three of us are immigrants, three of us are Black, three of us are wxmen. There was plenty we could have talked about, but we didn't, so we could stay in a good mood a little longer.
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In this piece, I'm the one watching. I can see what's underneath it all, and part of me wants to name it, but I mostly just want to be happy for a moment. I don't want to talk about how unsure I feel about my place here, how othered I feel at work, or how tight things are financially. But it's always there, sitting at the table with us even when nobody says it out loud.
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So I eat, I stare ahead, I laugh with everyone. The row of watching eyes framing the scene, the faceless mannequins behind us dressed for jobs and roles we perform, they're the parts of us that stay switched on even at rest, still clocking what we'd rather not say. Every so often, though, the distraction slips, and we catch each other's eyes across the checkerboard table, and the problem is there again.
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Stop talking to me about AI, please (2026)
I have come to see AI as a scorpion that has severed me and taught itself to move as I move.
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It has already taken my likeness: the cadence of my writing, the shape of my sentences. Next it will come for my chest, and profess to love my friends with my own tenderness. It will come for what is intimate, and promise my partners a version of pleasure indistinguishable from mine. It will come for my legs, and flee from difficulty exactly as I have always fled.
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I am scared of it because it is new and new things evolve. Perhaps it will evolve faster than I can. It is a transhuman thing, and its ambition, whether conscious of itself or not, is to become me.
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Rot (2026)
During a period when I felt suspended between doing well and struggling, never certain when I would finally feel okay again, I got this idea. My reality at the time was chaotic, but I could sense that things might also be fine, that everything might be okay, if I allowed myself to dream my way out of that reality rather than remain fixed within it.
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For me, dreaming is not escapism. It is a way of processing what is happening, imagining what might still happen, and holding space for a version of reality gentler than the one I am in. My work attempts to capture that in-between state, not quite here, not quite elsewhere, but somewhere that dreaming makes possible.
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Pulling from the tarot elements of the moon as a way of making a path clear and the sun as a form of warmth and renewal, I drew this as a wish and a way to affirm that I would feel better eventually despite my surroundings being a bit muddy and unclear. Regardless of what I wish, I tend to hold on to the bad, which, in some way, controls my behaviours and holds me back.Â
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This is a wish that is still firmly rooted in my reality.Â
The World (2026)
After developing what became an earnest preoccupation with astrology, I decided to create my own rendering of The World, the final card of the Major Arcana, filtered entirely through my own lens. This piece is an attempt to blend my background with my more recent fixations. Growing up, I was drawn to traditional African religions, trying to understand why I felt different; that curiosity eventually grew into an interest in tarot.
When I first moved to the UK, I became completely hooked on The Smiths, which felt strange given that the lead singer is known for some deeply racist remarks. It felt odd, being a Black artist finding inspiration in someone like that, but I had to make the music mine regardless. "Big Mouth Strikes Again" always made me feel emboldened, despite its sad subject matter, and that feeling mattered a lot when I first arrived here, because I felt like I knew nothing. I had to learn how to use public transport for the first time, having grown up sheltered in a very strict household, and I genuinely felt like I had no right to take my place in the human race. But somewhere in that fear, I found a strength I didn't expect, and I leaned hard into a kind of Joan of Arc spirit, because I had no other choice. There was no one around to help me. I had to learn how to make new friends, how to survive in a corporate environment I didn't understand, and I was scared constantly, like I'd bitten more than I could chew. But I had a blind faith in myself that let me follow my own madness anyway.
Big Mouth Strikes Again (2025)
