My work functions as personal expression and as a means of connection through communicating feelings and experiences too abstract to articulate with words. I seek to express emotional and physical states grounded in embodied experience and moments of transformation.

 In my work, I offer loose representations of the figure. Forms remain open, leaving space for the imagination. Bodily references are paired with materials that are not bodily. Metal is hard and impermeable, unlike skin, yet I imbue it with sensitive features. Surfaces textured with hammer marks mimic stretch marks, cracks, and fissures. Symmetrical hollow forms might suggest the pelvis or chest. Many of my works suggest use or wearability, referencing armor, skin, or vessels, while refusing to fully become any of these things.

 While creating, I often ask: At what point is an object truly suspended between abstraction and representation? How does our tendency to anthropomorphize pull it out of that suspension and narrow its focus? What are the faintest qualities capable of establishing a perceived connection to the human body?

 Steel wool, once easily identifiable and overlooked, becomes abstracted through compression. Hammering and merging its threads creates a surface that appears animalistic or hair-like yet still retains a metallic sheen. Though metal is the primary material in all my work, some objects retain shell-like hardness, suggesting armor, while others evoke organic matter, weathered and disintegrating.

 I strive for my work to exist in a space of aesthetic tension between beauty and the grotesque. The viewer may find themselves enjoying the experience of looking without fully understanding why. What they see or feel may reveal something personal. Ambiguity opens the work to multiple meanings. I often use elongated or distorted bodily forms to elicit complex responses—ones that heighten the viewer’s sensory awareness or embodied perception. Yet, the action taking place, and even the presence of a body at all, remains open-ended, inviting each viewer to find their own meaning within the work.

 Through these objects, I seek not to offer resolution but to open a space for recognition, projection, and feeling. These forms exist at the threshold of body and absence, protection and exposure. They do not demand understanding but invite contemplation. If there is catharsis, it is quiet and personal—a brief alignment between what is seen and what is felt, a sense that the work matches, reflects, or holds something of your inner experience. Through my art, I hope to offer viewers a moment of resonance.