Screenprinting is fun.
In my final semester at Samford, I gained hands-on experience in screen printing, mastering the entire process from design and separation to screen burning, printing, and reclaiming. This process-driven approach taught me to think beyond the screen — considering how color layers interact, how ink behaves on different fabrics, and how each step in production shapes the final design. It pushed me to treat printmaking not just as a technical skill, but as an extension of my creative practice.
My Tears Are Becoming a Sea
This M83 gig poster captures the essence of the band's song "My Tears Are Becoming a Sea," translating its emotional depth into visual form. A simple, monochromatic color palette evokes an underwater atmosphere, while the central eye motif reinforces the imagery of tears dissolving into a vast, watery expanse.
Everything is Fine. Everything is Fucked.
This project explores the tension between what we feel and what we perform — the polished surface versus the mess underneath. Screen printed by hand across raw, distressed fabric, each piece pairs two contradictory truths: the calm exterior we're expected to maintain, and the chaos we're really carrying.
The imagery leans into that friction. Grainy, high-contrast portraits — worn, defiant, unraveling at the edges — sit alongside bold, hand-lettered type that refuses to soften the message. Nothing here is clean or corporate.
"Everything Is Fine" and "Everything Is Fucked" aren't opposites — they're the same sentence, said at different volumes. This collection gives that dissonance a place to exist, stitched and printed onto something you can touch.
Russian Jesus. He Was Risen.
Styled after vintage religious propaganda and orthodox iconography, the poster reimagines a stoic, halo-crowned figure as "Russian Jesus," patron saint of the "Church of the Late Testament."
The tagline — "He was risen... and then he was arrested" — pokes fun at the tension between rigid authority and rebellion, using scripture-like reverence to set up a punchline. The muted, aged color palette and ornate typography lean into the visual language of religious iconography, only to undercut it with absurdist humor.
Electr-ode, an ode to energy.
This piece explores the abstract, almost spiritual nature of energy — something felt everywhere but never fully seen. Bold, radiating linework fractures across the page, forming a symmetrical, mask-like structure that feels both mechanical and cosmic. The sharp, converging angles suggest movement and radiance without depicting a literal source, echoing the poem's idea of light existing "everywhere" yet "nothing... to see."
Printed with metallic ink, the design shifts subtly depending on the light and viewing angle — a deliberate nod to the piece's central theme. The ink's reflective quality gives the flat black-and-white composition a sense of energy in motion, as if the poster itself is radiating rather than simply depicting.
At its core, this piece treats energy as something ancient and eternal: "never created nor destroyed," "existing in the void." The interplay of stark geometry and shimmering ink captures that duality — structured yet intangible, visible yet impossible to fully grasp.
