statement
In my work, I construct theatrical, nightmarish spaces—compressed worlds where agency and narrative are just beyond reach. These works often resemble stage sets, with shallow depth and stacked forms. I rarely use traditional perspective. Instead, everything is pressed to the surface. This spatial logic mimics dreams (or what I call my “night life”) where infinities happen in the narrow space behind your eyelids. The scenes feel expansive, but the visuals are tight, immediate, and loaded. The result is a kind of psychic compression.
In addition to traditional drawing methods, I have begun layering digital drawings, printed fragments, acrylic, and colored pencil to create “paintings.” The process is improvisational: images are ripped, rearranged, painted over, and drawn back into. In making, I feel like I’m in an audience, following along where the materials take me. Like in a good show, I’m on the hook for the ending.
I return often to symbols of birds, ladders, stairs, branches, and crumbling infrastructures. Combined, they speak to longing, transformation, and entrapment. Though they suggest movement, they’re often caught mid-motion or so entangled in one another, they can’t fulfill their purpose. These layered spaces don’t have clear entrances or exits—you enter right in the middle of the chaos, where everything is happening all at once.
To live in 2025 is to feel everything, all the time, all at once. I long for a good dream or a bright future, but the tangled web we live in has left a sense of disillusionment. The work is a method of drawing a map for a world I can’t imagine, of going deeper to get through.
May 2025