In my practice, I assemble and dismantle, stacking wood, layering, and scraping paint. I examine how we build and repair ourselves and the world when nothing feels permanent. I think about holding things together, occupying space, and living with resilience. Within these architectural systems, organic forms emerge. Curves, arcs, and irregular rhythms press against rigid frameworks, introducing movement and a sense of breath.

I construct dense, wall-hung reliefs and large-scale floor structures from salvaged wood fragments. Shims, used to align and stabilize framing, become ways of steadying what feels unsettled. Shakes, designed to protect exterior walls, refer to shelter and safety. I manipulate mass and line with their tapered profiles, creating tension between lift and weight, solidity and erosion. Organic forms interrupt these structures, bending and softening the architecture from within. The process is slow and deliberate. An obsessive, dwelling mind is an asset for this labor-intensive, time-consuming process.

My paintings operate in parallel. They echo architectural grids, frameworks, and spatial divisions, while organic shapes and gestures disrupt and animate the image. I layer bold brush marks, thin veils of paint, and drips of color onto a heavily built-up surface, scraping and repainting so that the layers become earthy records of accumulated time and physical evidence of attention, revision, and persistence. Like the sculptures, the paintings are about dwelling; repetitive attention creates both emotional and physical space where structure and organic flow coexist.

 My interest in sculpture began while making stretchers as a painting student. I became absorbed in structure: precise joinery, square corners, long-term stability. Early works used charged materials like picket fence slats and riot batons, exploring how repetition and density can carry both formal and social weight. That interest in what holds things together, and what happens when those structures are tested, continues to drive the work.