As a child of 1990s Silicon Valley, I was raised with a post-agricultural understanding of landscape on unceded land of the Ramaytush Ohlone peoples that became a plum orchard, then a WWI base, then finally the suburban streets I pedaled my bike down. Informed by my California childhood with baby boomer parents, my color palette and the graphic flatness of collage evoke a secondhand nostalgia for the constructed utopias of the midcentury symbols that are the subject of my work. Souvenirs of the recent past— trade brochures, advertising pamphlets, recipe books and other printed media— and remnant symbology still buried in the landscape, serve dually as a warning for how quickly Americans construct a fantasy and forget its origin.