Rheim Alkadhi was born into a cross-cultural family. In Iraq she bicycled holding a kitten for delivery to a friend who lived in a mud home. In New England she crouched mindlessly beneath an evergreen to make mud pies.

Rheim Alkadhi now lives on the second floor of a wooden house along a highway barrier. In the morning she wakes up, opens the window and waits for the cat at the foot of the bed to blink successively. Pixels chronicle time, consumer waste marks space. She rides over the seas electronically.