I find peace when I create. The studio is my meditation space. My hands, heart, intuition take over and my worries about the outside world recede.
The world is full of products/stuff that makes no sense to me - it floods my senses. I find my own meaning by interpreting the world’s shadows, what lies behind, what lies in the mark-making we all do. I make my own language of things.
Cracks form, moss grows, paint drips, concrete splits - streaks of natural and human graffiti, both fixed and transient.
These marks belong to all of us, they are accidental and they are secret. We all leave some sort of mark in this life and we are all connected by the footpaths we travel on and the roads we use.
I strive to create something unique. I reach into myself, and pull things out that resonate- memories of things that have no words, fleeting glimpses I aim to capture.
My works speak of family, communication, belonging, memories, identity - my history to date.
This body of work holds the secrets of where I have come from. The pieces whisper silent stories to each other.