Working with found objects, natural debris, textiles, bark, stones, plastic, wire, vellum, gauze, and synthetic remnants, I create sculptural assemblages that explore transformation, attachment, vulnerability, and our entanglement with the material world. Through wrapping, binding, suspending, compressing, and layering, I reorganize familiar materials into forms that feel bodily, organic, and psychologically charged.
The materials I collect arrive already marked by time. They carry evidence of touch, use, weathering, displacement, and decay. I approach them as carriers of material memory, retaining traces of previous environments, histories, and patterns of consumption. Waste becomes structure, softness becomes strength, and discarded matter acquires new presence and agency.
Although the sculptures may appear bodily, they are often hollow, permeable, and slight in both mass and permanence. Gauze, mesh, vellum, foil, thread, and translucent skins create forms that seem closer to breath, memory, or transmission than to solid monuments. This physical lightness shifts attention away from the authority of the material itself and toward what the forms appear to hold, conceal, protect, or communicate. Voids, membranes, and suspended gaps become active spaces for association and projection.
The sculptures hover between recognizable states, suggesting organs, nests, wounds, vessels, or protective shells. Reflective surfaces may appear armored and sealed, while mesh and gauze remain exposed and porous. Wires, threads, and suspended elements create points of connection, placing containment in tension with overflow and isolation with communication.
My assemblages are precarious and often ephemeral, making instability central to the work’s meaning. They sag, strain, knot, bulge, and fray, appearing caught in the process of becoming something else. Decay and regeneration can inhabit the same form, allowing deterioration to hold the possibility of growth. Rather than resisting change, the objects reveal it, suggesting that matter and identity are always in flux. Their forms are at once vulnerable and resilient, improvised and intentional.
The work inverts the relationship between physical and conceptual weight. Rather than relying on monumentality, the sculptures use transparency and emptiness to create capacity. Their delicate structures carry tensions that exceed their material presence: grief and renewal, protection and exposure, preservation and degradation.
The work reflects a world in which natural and synthetic matter can no longer be easily separated. Through transformation and reassembly, I consider how objects acquire meaning, how memory can reside within them, and how human life remains inseparable from the vulnerable ecologies of the natural world. Beauty, discomfort, humor, and care converge in these unstable forms, revealing change not as a failure of permanence but as an essential condition of material and human experience.