07/28/2026
Today marks one year since my mother’s passing.
For twenty-five years, Wallis Annenberg led the Annenberg Foundation with remarkable generosity, imagination, and conviction. She believed philanthropy could do more than respond to need—it could help shape the civic, ecological, and cultural life of a city.
I will always be grateful that she trusted me to pursue a different kind of philanthropy. Through Metabolic Studio, she made space for work that often seemed improbable: treating infrastructure as a cultural medium, asking artists to participate in ecological reparation, and believing that long-term care for rivers, soils, and public landscapes was worthy of patient investment.
That trust changed my life.
Growing up as Wallis’s daughter meant witnessing a woman whose ambition was often underestimated because it was expressed through generosity rather than power. She was fiercely curious, deeply engaged, and increasingly willing to place bold bets on ideas that others couldn’t yet see. In that, she gave me permission to become an artist who works at the scale of systems rather than objects.
Some of the work we shared was, in its own way, feminist—not because it announced itself as such, but because it insisted that care is not secondary to power. That repairing landscapes, supporting communities, building public infrastructure, and investing over generations are forms of leadership worthy of equal respect.
One of my favorite memories is standing beside her as construction began on the Annenberg Wildlife Crossing. I remember how excited she was. She understood that this was more than a bridge for wildlife. It was an act of repair—an acknowledgment that we have responsibilities to the living world we have fragmented. I was so proud to watch her embrace that vision with such joy.
I miss my mother. I miss our conversations, her laughter, her instincts, and her faith that improbable ideas could become real.
Thank you, Mom—for your leadership, for your courage, and for believing in work that sought not simply to build, but to repair.