What is your art about?

 

My work explores how memory lives in the body — how sensations, emotions, and inherited patterns accumulate and transform over time. I use textures from the natural world because they mirror the way memory softens, fractures, deepens, and reshapes itself.

 

How did your journey as an artist begin?

 

Since childhood, I’ve been attuned to tiny details — shells, stones, feathers, corroded objects, surfaces shaped by weather. My memories have always arrived as sensations rather than sentences, so painting them became instinctive. Living with anxiety later heightened this sensitivity, and with my mother’s early encouragement, I found my way into a body-led, intuitive art practice.

 

 What inspires the objects you collect?

 

I’m drawn to surfaces that have lived — driftwood worn by tides, plaster marked by water, shells rubbed bare. These textures resemble how memory behaves inside us: weathered, layered, and transformed by pressure and time.

 

How would you describe your process?

 

Intuitive and somatic. I start with movement and mark-making, then tear, layer, and rebuild surfaces where contrasts coexist. It mirrors how internal experience actually feels — messy, layered, constantly shifting.

 

What do you hope your work offers?

 

A moment of grounding. A sense that their own memories — softened or sharp, layered or unresolved — are worth exploring and listening to.