Each piece begins without a plan. I make marks and watch for what wants to form—sometimes a gesture, sometimes a joint, a root, a fold. The work grows like something living: layered, self-complicating, half-understood. I rotate the surface. I erase. I add what doesn’t belong. Over time, a system emerges that feels coherent, but not identifiable. That ambiguity is the point.

Years working from the figure, and then studying anatomy, microbiology, and dissection shifted how I see. I think of the body less as a form to render; It’s a process, a swarm, a set of provisional arrangements. Life organizes itself the way these paintings do: elements recombine, structures emerge, dissolve, begin again. There’s no pure state to return to. No stable center.

I work toward that same logic: animistic, recombinant, unsettled. I want the image to feel like it’s ever becoming—never one thing, never finished, always at the edge of something else. What pulls me forward is not clarity, but permeability. The sense that nothing is only itself.

Conté, acrylic, estate sale coffee table books
Various sizes