My work begins with fragments: discarded images, torn book pages, rough sketches, and layers of paint. The process is messy and obsessive, building up paint only to cover it later, or scrape it away, leaving scars and traces. I tear found images, paint them over, or partially obscure them. Lines cut across surfaces like fractures. Figures emerge, dissolve, and reappear transformed.

Central to my practice is the act of masking: the daily performance of fitting in while suppressing what matters most as we systematically erase our authentic concerns, genuine fears, and real personalities to blend in. This emotional camouflage is the cost of belonging.

Throughout my various series and works, my art functions like archaeological evidence of emotional states, the layers revealing what people try to bury. The viewer is confronted with imagery that mirrors the effort required to decode our own reactions to an increasingly surreal world and the weight of living with constant low-level dread.

I'm not interested in resolution. I'm mapping a psychological landscape we're all navigating: the exhaustion of constant self-editing, the persistence required to keep looking when it hurts, the strangeness of what remains when pretense wears thin.