Every piece I embark upon begins with a question, often one I can’t articulate fully in words. It’s a nagging curiosity about how we see, how we feel form, or what hidden narratives a material might hold.
Today, I was working with a large canvas, allowing pigments to bleed and pool, watching their unpredictable dance. It could seem chaotic, but within that chaos, I was chasing a particular sense of tension – a visual dissonance that mirrors an intellectual one. Why do certain forms evoke unease, while others offer solace? Why does our mind try to find patterns where there are none?
This isn’t about finding answers; it’s about the act of sustained questioning. My abstract marks and conceptual arrangements are merely the traces of that inquiry. They are the visual echoes of a mind grappling with perception, inviting you, the viewer, to join the interrogation. The beauty, for me, lies in the lingering question, not the definitive statement.
