Living in Miami is a lot like the end stages of hypothermia.

The final stages of the condition, where the body tricks itself into feeling warmth and comfort, only to then quietly kill you, is the best way I can describe the contemporary living conditions in Miami. Due to economic inequality, housing shortages, and environmental destruction, Miami– Florida’s second most populated city– has transformed from a place where families like mine could float along, lazy river style, into one where everyone but the ultra rich and wealthy tread water to keep their head above, desperate to avoid eventual drowning. From Swampland to projected Atlantis, I’ve watched my hometown shift into something unrecognizable. A city I love, the city that raised me, might soon be too expensive for me to imagine building roots similar to the mangroves that illustrated my childhood. In Hyperthermia, I document the absurd, ridiculous, and real experiences of growing up in Dade County, celebrate the 305 proudly, and preserve the memories of a Miami that existed before transplants, Northern Snowbirds, and the flood of the concrete jungle. Despite the stereotypes– the shady city for even shadier people, vacation central, vice city, a playground for bottles,beaches, bikinis, and BBLs– this is my home, and it always will be.

In this body of work, I am translating the anxiety I feel about the current state and future of the City of Miami. Through imaging the familiar and constructing scenes of absurdity, the work in this series, at the end of the day, is about the love I have for my “hometown”—dispelling the stereotypes of what the city and a Miamian are like. Through photographs, installation, stop motion animation, and artist books, I share the full story: one that embraces contradiction, acknowledges the weight of change, and still finds space for care and memory.

A reckoning for the city of Miami, Hyperthermia is both a warning and a love letter. From a born and raised Miamian, a proud member of the 305, this work exists at the intersection of grief and allegiance. It mourns what has already been lost—the neighborhoods swallowed by rising costs, slowly eroded shorelines, the culture diluted by waves of outside influence and gentrification—while fiercely celebrating what persists. These images and objects are an act of preservation, an insistence that Miami’s stories, voices, and rhythms matter beyond its stereotypes. At its core, this project wrestles with contradiction: holding onto the magic city while confronting its uncertain future, amplifying its absurdities while refusing to let them define it. Through Hyperthermia, I map the Miami I know—the one that raised me, shaped me, and continues to flow through my veins—before it slips entirely beneath the surface.

Show Thumbnails