Scavengers are embodiments of adaptability. Weaving in and out of urban settings, consuming what can be found or hunted, and having evolved remarkable immune systems, they carry a sharp set of survival skills well equipped for maneuvering the realities of climate change and post-capitalist landscapes. Resourceful, intuitive, and thick within the perceivably unglamorous work of death and decay, scavengers embrace what’s available within their environments and transform it into vital nourishment. As humans (and fellow scavengers) we have many lessons still to draw from these scrappy critters already well-versed in composting chaotic environments. 

 

Canine scavengers hold unique positionalities in their relationships to humans, and for humans they evoke potent emotions and associations. Beyond a physical sense of scavenging the concepts driving this work dig deeper to question how we can unyoke trauma and subvert colonial violence to create liberated and sustaining futures. 

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This work also carries personal significance for me. Halfway through its creation my dog Ginkgo had a sudden and early death. To finish sewing this work became a devoted process of grief. Unlike other works I’ve created, Passage now travels with me. Made during a residency in Malaysia, watching over as I packed my home in Albuquerque, installed at a gallery in Cairo, and now shading the sun in my window in northern California, this work is neither stagnant nor complete but instead ongoing and alive. Passage has been used as blanket, mattress, and garment and kept always close inciting continuous intimate exchanges.