Working primarily with paper and clay, and also with wood and metal, I begin with a simple action: a tear, a perforation, an ink wash.

As the work unfolds, each gesture suggests the next. It asks for close attention and a willingness to let go of expectation, trusting that something unforeseen will emerge.

Drawn to surfaces and phenomena that signify the passing of time: coastlines worn by the surf, insect trails etched on bark, moss gathering in the cracks of stone, I work through my chosen medium rather than merely on it, using light to alter and permeate the surface.

Ultimately, what I’m chasing is a quiet equilibrium - a stillness that holds tension, like balancing two opposing forces at once: the moment when something could either hold together or fall apart.