ARTIST STATEMENT

I am drawn to surfaces that have been touched by time. A wall where graffiti has been half dissolved by rain. A temple stone darkened by monsoon and touch. A mountain that a river flow has chiseled into a canyon.

What draws me to these surfaces is not the wear itself, but what lives inside it. Something unexpectedly tender. Something sweet.

My paintings work the same way. I build surfaces from acrylic or encaustic wax, plaster, silk, and rice paper, layering, scraping back, burying, and partially recovering. The ground accumulates. Time-worn, cracked, partially obscured. And within that ground, something tender and sweet persists.

These are Humanscapes, paintings about our interior life. Because we are not so different from these surfaces. We arrive into histories we didn't make. We carry the accumulation of time, of lineage, of everything that weathered us. And somewhere inside all of that, something tender persists. Something luminous. Not despite the wear. Because of it.

I paint because I see it exists. And because we so easily forget.