Hello! My name is Staci Bu Shea (b. 1988, Miami).

I’m a curator, writer, educator, archivist and organizer living in Utrecht, The Netherlands. My pronoun.is/they.

Broadly, I focus on aesthetic and poetic practices of social reproduction and care work, as well as its manifestations in interpersonal relationships and daily life, community organizing and institutional practice.

In 2019, I embarked on a study trajectory called Poetics of Living with art historian Rizvana Bradley to explore already existing and emerging non-normative forms of living together in consideration of rapidly changing discourses around sexuality, health, communal life, and death. In many ways, this forms the basis of my life practice and my interest in art and culture.

I’m currently working on a transdisciplinary project called Dying Livingly, which looks at the communal life and interior architecture of hospice and highlights emergent cultures of end of life care. Since 2019 I help out at a beloved local hospice and I received end-of-life care training from Going with Grace. I am a death companion and provide education, guidance and support for those dying and their caregivers. Eventually I will share more about my services and offerings, but if you need support in the meantime, please get in touch with me.


I’m a tutor at Sandberg Institute (Amsterdam, 2022) and Royal Academy of Art (The Hague, 2023) and have taught at Dutch Art Institute (Arnhem, 2020) and MaHKU, Utrecht Graduate School of Visual Art and Design (Utrecht, 2019).


From 2017-2022 I worked as a curator at Casco Art Institute: Working for the Commons, an art institution based in Utrecht that focuses on collective art projects and organizational experiments. Together with the team I managed the exhibition program from concept writing and organization to working with artists and designing programs, but was also engaged in other areas of the institution. Noteably I stewarded a digital and analog archival project to establish a base for Casco’s archive since 1990 and sustainable archival practices for the team moving forward. I also worked to make Casco more accessible by implementing accommodations and fostering a culture of accessibility, testing what’s possible for a social, aesthetic experience of care while learning from and working with disability communities.

In the past, I co-curated Barbara Hammer: Evidentiary Bodies (2017) at Leslie Lohman Museum of Art (NY) with Carmel Curtis, and graduated from the Center for Curatorial Studies, Bard College with the group exhibition Emphasis Repeats (Andrea Geyer, Barbara Hammer, Alex Martinis Roe, and Tourmaline, 2016) at Hessel Museum of Art (NY). From 2011-2014 I worked as a studio manager and assistant to artist Jim Draper in Jacksonville, Florida.


Selected work

CV of Care, 2022 (text)

Commoning Accessibility, with design by Lotte Lara Schröder, 2022 (text)

The Grand Finale, with Mira Thompson, 2021 (text)

Barn’s burnt down–now I can see the moon, with CA Conrad, Camisha L. Jones, Ching-In Chen, 2021 (curated program)

Access Intimacy with Mia Mingus, 2021 (curated program)

Dying Livingly with Barbara Hammer, 2021 (lecture)

Het is of de stenen spreken (silence is a commons), with Babi Badalov, Ansuya Blom, Ama Josephine Budge, Mire Lee, and the Casco team, 2019 (exhibition)

Two Rubatos with Terre Thaemlitz, 2019 (exhibition)

Heroic in its ordinariness, with Elizabeth Atterbury, Beverly Buchanan, Taraneh Fazeli, Feminist Health Care Research Group, Carolyn Lazard, Redeem Pettaway, Falke Pisano, and Sasha Wortzel, 2019 (exhibition)

Army of Love, with Ingo Niermann, Dora García and more, 2017 (project exhibition)

Age lines, Kerry Downey, Alexis Pauline Gumbs, Ilyana Ritchie, Mia You, and more, 2016 (exhibition)

Find some of my writing published on Metropolis M’s website, including A New Culture of Accessibility (with Mira Thompson, 2021), Learning from Grief (2021), and Care in Times of Care (2020).


Poetry bulletin

Camonghne Felix, Born. Living. Will. Die., 2021 

Sometimes I think I’m never
   going to write a poem again
   and then there’s a full moon.

I miss being in love but I miss
myself most when I’m gone.

In the salty wet air of my ancestry
my auntie peels a mango with her

and I’m no longer
writing political poems; because
   there are

mangoes and my favorite memory is
   still alive.
I’m digging for meaning but
   haunted by purpose

and it’s an insufficient approach.
What’s the margin of loss on words
   not spent today?

I’m getting older. I’m buying smaller
   images to travel light.
I wake up, I light up, I tidy, and it’s
   all over now.

Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 7, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.