Between 2016 and 2020, my editorial illustrations were regularly included in the pages of Kitsch Magazine. All in all, I contributed to six issues. Many of the drawings were devised to illustrate and emphasize central themes in short non-fiction texts. Others were featured as standalone artwork or cartoons, bringing a bit of levity and whimsy to the publication’s overstressed student readership.

Scroll down to explore a selection of highlights from the archives.


The article that inspired this grizzly scene, “Poverty Porn: How to Unsubscribe from Slum Tourism,” is an exposé on a growing and ethically murky sector in the travel industry, which romanticizes and commodifies visits to destinations characterized by dramatic inequality.

The author, Abigail Mengesha, details several of the industry's transgressive practices, including allowing vacationers to photograph the residents of slums they tour, resulting in “a contemporary human zoo.” In my illustration, I took that disturbing reality and stretched it to the point of exaggeration, aiming to create a moment of iconically indefensible insensitivity.
This eerie image was drawn to accompany "The Sound on the Stairs: Hauntings in Your Local College Town" by Emma Eisler. The article is a survey of prominent ghost tales set in Ithaca, NY. 

The drawing depicts Edward H. Rulloff, a 19th-century autodidact, who divided his life between a brilliant career in academia and a lifelong murder spree. It is said that when the so-called “genius killer” was finally caught and hanged for his many crimes, his devoted his last words to laying a chilling curse on the town that had discovered him–Ithaca. 

Shortly thereafter, his brain was added to the Wilder Brain Collection in the psychology department of Cornell University, where it is prominently displayed in a large glass jar. It is thought to be the second largest human brain on record.
Tilda Wilson’s personal essay “Anxiety Native” offers readers a glimpse into the author’s lifelong struggle with a plethora of phobias and fears. The worst offender? The wind.

The challenge with this assignment was twofold. First, I had to find a way to visualize the wind in an easily legible form. Second, I had to do so while complementing the complex tonality of Tilda’s writing, in which she examines experiences of true childhood terror with an ironic and humorous distance.


The result was a goofily grotesque kite demon, whose exaggeratedly spooky features are counterbalanced by the delicacy and fear of the child it has captured.




This simple cartoon offers a sardonic view of Cornell University’s attempts to implement sustainable waste management systems circa 2017.
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