My work exists in the space between ache and lift. I return to this tension to stay close to the feeling of living, where melancholy gives weight and light gives breath. It is from this contradiction my work grows.

Being colour blind strips away certain certainties. Instead of trying to replicate a world others claim to see, I create what I feel.

It's less about accuracy and more about energy, how surfaces meet light and how that relationship bends perception.

I shift from physical to generative to digital and back again, carrying fragments of work with me.

Each loop adds friction, accident, and clarity.

Transfers, pigment, acrylic mediums, modular assemblies, and machine-led recombinations form a practise that mirrors the instability of life, at the same time falling apart and holding together.

For me, colour is the vibration between things.

It's a hum, it's energy in relationship.