A murmuration is a natural phenomenon, occurring when thousands of starlings move in fluid aerial formations. These occur most often in winter, at sunset: creating dramatic, ever-shifting paintings against bleak or brilliant skies. In part, it’s a method of evading predators: by constantly shifting their positions, no one bird remains on the outside for too long. It’s also a way of communicating with each other. Each bird is informed by its fellows around it. There is no leader; instead, the group morphs and moves as one large entity made up of thousands.

Murmuration (2025) is constructed of semi-sheer white organza, hand-cut cotton applique birds, and fishing line: materials chosen for their contrast and their compatibility with focused lighting. The layered sheets of organza provide an ethereal backdrop for the dusk-colored birds, connected to each other by single, delicate threads. The drama of the shadow they cast is only heightened by the fact that such formations are never replicated. This is it: this is one single moment, captured forever.

My work often focuses on impermanence, on the fleeting, the fragile. In contrast, fiber art is an intentional and deliberate practice. Every piece is a labor of time and love; each strand of thread and scrap of fabric has been held in my hands. In choosing this medium, I found a way to preserve these fleeting moments and show my reverence for the natural world around me.