Show featured in Glasstire article

The Third Coast Biennial is a national juried contemporary art exhibition hosted in odd-numbered years at K Space Contemporary in Corpus Christi, Texas. The show is curated from open call submissions by a guest juror, and thus the exhibition always offers a unique slice of the art world.

This year’s juror, Leandra Urrutia, shaped the exhibition around the concept of hybridization. She describes it as “a collision and fusion of images, processes, materials, ideas, and experiences that create compelling compositions.” I couldn’t agree more. The selected artworks inhabit multiple forms simultaneously, clashing and fusing, or splintering and evolving apart.

I think that the concept of fusion and evolution is a way that artists react to metamorphic times. As our world has grown increasingly uncertain — politically, environmentally, and socially — I’ve found that artists and writers create work that is either optimistic or pessimistic about the future. Do they think humans will survive by adapting to the new normal, or will they struggle, barely hanging on to outdated ways of thinking? Most of the works in this year’s exhibition lean toward the former: they approach survival through the lens of human resiliency, whether to a shifting ecosystem or to the accelerating realities of the digital age.

-excerpt from Glasstire

by Elena Rodz September 8, 2025

Light as a Feather at Mariboe Gallery

It has been a moving experience working on Light as a Feather, an exhibit about the recent loss of family members. The Peddie School (Hightstown, NJ) welcomed me with open arms to their Mariboe Gallery and Donna L Sands Exhibition Hall spaces. The piece in the video is called Wing and a Prayer, inspired by a road trip with my brother to Mexico.

Like Mother Exhibit Opens February 2022

On view at University House Wallingford, Seattle, WA
curated by Kelly Lyles and June Sekiguchi

Safeguard
Digital print on kozo, fabric, encaustic
11 x 8.5 inches
2020

A mother’s gaze signals protection. The moment a mother and child look into each other’s eyes, a special bond begins to develop.

One of the strongest memories I have of my mother is her eyes, as they communicated the emotion of her mood, her attention, her anger, her sadness, her love.

When my son was in preschool, there had been abductions of small children happening, and I had a great fear that mine would be snatched. I made sure he was always within range of my watchful eye.

As my mother grew older, I sensed her watching me. She still wanted to keep me safe.