2025
This year’s work moves sideways, loosening its grip without letting go. Marks land where they feel honest, not where they were planned. There’s a quiet friction in the process: between gesture and geometry, between the weight of the past and the rhythm of now. Traces of older worlds linger, not as references but as sediments; sensed more than seen.
The palette stays close to the ground: earthen, velvety, and carries a silent insistence. Each tone chosen not to soothe, but to hold space — quietly, attentively. Nothing is rushed, though the lines may appear that way. There’s no rehearsal, only repetition until the form feels inevitable, arriving on its own terms.
These are not statements. They’re not quite questions either. They hover—between clarity and blur, restraint and release—like thoughts that didn’t need to be written down, but were.
