My work emerges from the persistent feeling that we're all performing normally while the world fractures around us. The work starts with fragments—discarded photographs, torn book pages, layers of paint—and builds them into something that looks like anxiety feels.

The process is messy and obsessive. Hours spent building up paint only to cover it, or scrape it away, leaving scars and traces. Found images get torn, painted over, or partially obscured. Lines cut across surfaces like fault lines. Nothing stays pristine because nothing in life stays pristine.

Central to this exploration is the act of masking—the daily performance of fitting into corporate expectations while suppressing the parts of ourselves that matter most. The art examines how we systematically erase our authentic concerns, our genuine fears, our real personalities to become acceptable, productive members of society. This emotional camouflage becomes another form of violence, one we inflict on ourselves in exchange for belonging.

Each piece functions like archaeological evidence of emotional states—layers revealing what we try to bury. The viewer has to work to decode the imagery, just like we work to decode our own reactions to an increasingly surreal world, and the weight of living with constant low-level dread.

The goal isn't to provide answers or comfort, but to make visible the psychological landscape we're all navigating, whether we admit it or not.