Artist Statement

Nothing has ever felt entirely complete to me; not an experience, not a relationship, not an encounter, not an understanding. For many years, I searched for completeness, both in life and in my work. Over time, however, I came to question whether completeness is something we ever truly experience, or simply an idea we project onto the world. As that understanding evolved, so did my drawings. They remain open, not as an aesthetic choice, but because I have come to believe that openness is more faithful to the nature of human experience than the illusion of completion.

I am drawn to fleeting encounters. A passing figure, a gesture, or a glance can leave an impression that feels complete, even though so little was actually seen. In drawing directly from life, I explore what can be perceived within those brief moments, accepting that every encounter will always remain, in some measure, beyond us.

Charcoal has always felt like more than a drawing material. Once living wood, it is transformed by fire into something entirely different. I see something deeply human in that transformation - the idea that what has passed through fire is not diminished, but changed into a new form. Perhaps that is why charcoal has never felt like a tool in my hand, but an extension of it, allowing what I observe to pass directly onto the paper. It continues to leave me with the same question every time I draw: How much must we see before we feel we have truly encountered another human being? Is a fragment enough, or do we need the completed whole?