Create
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Question
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Feel
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Create 〰️ Question 〰️ Feel 〰️
There is something I keep coming back to: every person I have ever crossed paths with, even the briefest ones, carries a version of me in their memory that I will never get to see. And I am carrying versions of all of them too. Our lives, seen from the outside, look like an infinite weaving of these small witnessed moments, each one part of something larger than either person involved.
I find that both humbling and beautiful. And I think we are far more woven into each other than we tend to feel on an ordinary day.
Everything I make lives inside that feeling, in color and shape and texture and material, and in the quiet question of who we are underneath everything we put on to move through the world. Does that space between the two feel familiar to you?
Every piece here started as a feeling I couldn't name any other way. I work across an infinite combination of materials and techniques, paper dyed with plants, handwoven textiles, biomaterials, pigment, wax and thread, guided by what the work seems to be asking for rather than any fixed process.
What holds it all together is the question underneath, something about identity, something about what we carry without choosing to, something about the face we present and what lives quietly on the other side of it.
Each piece has a note attached. Not an explanation, more like the thought that preceded the making, the introspection that woke the work up. I hope one of them wakes something up in you too.
Most of us spend a lifetime learning to be legible to other people. We adjust, we soften, we emphasize, we hide, and we do it so naturally and so early that by the time we stop to look we are not sure which parts we chose and which parts just accumulated.
This collection lives inside that pause. Made in material because material has a particular honesty that words sometimes lose, and growing because the question keeps opening into new forms, new techniques, new ways of asking something that has no final answer. Identity is not a thing you have. It is something you are always in the middle of, assembling and revising and sometimes losing entirely and finding again in unexpected places.
It is not finished. Neither are you.
