I make marks. Lots of them.
Small ones, sometimes large. Dots and lines. I build them into fields of texture on surfaces, abstracting shapes and groups, building meaning and intention for myself; sometimes others. Think of this work as meditation, but also embedded conversations in my native language.
Materials and instruments matter. Selecting papers, inks, pens, paint, and brushes, then learning how to best combine them, is integral to my practice. Bringing them together brings me joy in the making of the work, and allows me to share my thoughts without telling secrets. I want to communicate ideas impossible for me to express with symbolic, verbal language.
My combination of color, line, and shapes is poetic more than narrative in the formation of meaning. At the same time, I cannot predict how it becomes meaningful for others, but I care about when others I do not know share with me what my work means to them. When there is no language for your experience, you create your own. Here is mine.