We tell ourselves stories like these because we have to; because if we don’t, we will lose ourselves to madness. Which is nothing other than, in its multifarious symptom formations, a condition in which narrative does not function; it is nothing other than the inability to tell these stories.

Because I was raised by my mother and maternal-grandmother, I grew up listening to stories.  I began thinking about the formative function of these stories as a student of psychoanalytic theory at Eugene Lang College, The New School for Liberal Arts where I earned my B.A in Psychology.  Now, I'm telling my own as an MFA candidate at Sarah Lawrence College  in their creative writing program.

I didn’t do well as a student of writing because writing departments are not concerned with the study of loss in the formation of the human subject. I saw this as a problem because all writing ultimately concerns the way we are born of loss, and into loss, in different narrative constructions.

As a student of psychoanalysis, I am interested in the way the stories we inherited at birth organize our subjectivities.  As a student of writing,  I am interested in how to intervene at the level of narrative to resurrect us from the way these stories fail us, allowing us to live beyond their limitations and the symptoms they contain.  

My conviction in the healing nature of creative writing has lead me to work at the intersection of psychology and the arts.  Most recently, I lead a creative writing workshop in The Westchester County Correctional Facility that facilitated the relationship between incarcerated mothers and their children through the authoring of personalized children's books.

While in graduate school for the arts, I maintain an education in psychoanalysis by serving as a host at The New Books in Psychoanalysis Network, where I interviews authors of psychoanalytic texts.