KRAUSHAUS is the work of my hands,
I was raised close to farms, livestock, woods, and the sea, learning early to listen to the rhythms of land and water — what was growing, what was leaving, what returned, and what could be gathered without taking too much.
As I grew older, I found my way deeper into my Indigenous Taíno and Appalachian lineages. It felt less like discovering something new and more like returning to something I had always known:the earth is not simply material for us to use. We live in relationship with it. What is gathered asks something of us in return.
That understanding is at the root of KRAUSHAUS.
I work with plants, natural fibers, indigo, flowers, bark, stones, earth pigments, rust, and other materials grown, gathered, or sourced with care. Everything is made by me in small batches, following the seasons and embracing the shifts and irregularities of living color.
PROCESS + PRACTICE
My practice moves somewhere… Always on the road between a studio, a kitchen, a garden, and a tiny laboratory — big pots simmering, indigo vats bubbling, flowers rolled into cloth, stones ground into pigment, rusty scraps soaking in jars, and something almost always hanging out to dry.
Natural color is endlessly alive. A single plant can shift with the season, the water, the fiber, the soil, or the way I choose to work with it. Experimentation and learning are a huge part of my practice. I research old processes, keep notes, test new ideas, follow unexpected colors, and let one discovery lead me into the next.
Some processes take an afternoon. Others unfold over days, weeks, or an entire season. I like that the work asks me to stay curious.
There is no factory behind KRAUSHAUS — just my hands, a growing collection of knowledge, and a practice that is always becoming.
