The work appears before me, often without pre-planning—just the medium and me. It arrives in its own time, in fits and starts, in bold, fleeting utterances.
 

Each series comes to tell me something, to explain me to myself, even when I may not be ready for the lessons. Now, after decades of making, I can see the body of it. It is supple in places, yielding to memory. In others, it is thickened and scarred. Folds gather where stories have settled, where the past has left its shape. There are cracks and tensions, but also resilience—edges that still hold flesh that bears the marks of survival.
 

If art’s purpose is to catalyze self-expression, then it has done its job well for me. It has been a voice when I had none. A beacon—a tiny flame casting a thin ray of light into the future. In the work, you will find themes of secrecy, grief, perseverance, and triumph—a delicate dance between strength and fragility.