My creative path has never followed a straight line. I began with crafting and sewing, moved into drawing and painting, and later immersed myself in photography and mixed media. I was deeply invested in conceptual work, treating material as a vehicle for ideas. I was interested in provoking thought—asking questions, articulating themes, and engaging the mind.

Over time, that orientation softened. What began as a largely intellectual practice gradually became more embodied. When clay entered my practice, it challenged my assumptions. The material demanded presence rather than control—a willingness to let form emerge slowly. Through it, I began moving out of the purely mental space of making and into something more grounded, where meaning is not only communicated, but felt. The forest forms that now define much of my work emerged naturally through this shift.

What began with functional forms has gradually expanded into a desire to create more immersive and sculptural work—forms that evoke awe, curiosity, and reverence for the forest. The shift has been less about persuading viewers toward an idea and more about inviting them into a feeling. Across every medium, curiosity remains the constant thread. I am drawn to archetype and symbol, but equally to the rhythms of growth and decay, emergence and renewal. I work at a slower pace, guided more by the woods than by trend cycles. The forest has become both subject and teacher.

Each piece is part of an ongoing inquiry—into material, transformation, and the ways we reconnect with something quieter and more enduring. My hope is that the work offers a moment of pause, perhaps a renewed sense of wonder, a spark of joy.