These works begin with fragments—worn papers, traces of text, dyed textiles, and found remnants.

I embed these materials into layers of oil paint and cold wax, slowly building and revising the surface. Some elements remain visible, while others are partially obscured. The wax allows the work to feel both softened and weathered, as if it has endured.

These paintings begin with the landscape, not as a fixed view, but as something observed—light filtered through trees, the deep color of water, a sense of expansion.

I often start by writing lines of poetry or lyrics directly onto the surface. These marks become part of the early layers, sometimes visible, sometimes covered as the painting develops.

Working in oil, I build and rework the surface, allowing forms to loosen and soften. The result is not a specific place, but a painting shaped by what was seen, remembered, and worked through over time.