The line of my life is far from straight. It leaps across vast distances and traces delicate, subtle marks that sometimes seem to hover in place. These lines of life reverberate in shifting tonalities, yet at their core lies the ability to approach the world again and again with joyful curiosity. In art, too, no line exists without desire. This is not to say that effort and uncertainty are foreign to art. Rather, art is shaped by tension—just as form stretches, reaches, and lifts itself upward.
My passion for drawing unfolds in an act of affirmation: an agreement with movement, a fidelity to momentum, to thought and feeling directed not merely toward reproducing a given form, but toward magnetic forces, an aesthetic sense of form, and a continual search for vanishing points—points that beckon the next stroke and summon presence into being.