Artist Statement
I collect sadness. But I do not make work to express sadness.
My practice began with drawing my mother. The mother in front of me, the mother in my memory, a mother who keeps changing. I could never decide which mother to draw, and the work never seemed finished.
Existence, concepts, and boundaries all sound convincing when we put them into words. But I cannot see them clearly, and I do not fully understand them.
So I pay attention to small moments that make something tighten inside me—a subtle feeling that tells me something has shifted.
I begin by placing, as they are, the elements that surrounded me at that moment.
I observe them. I draw lines with ink and pencil, make casts, sew fabric, and create shadows.
Using ordinary materials at hand, I arrange these elements so they become visible.
When I notice the gap between what I expected and what is actually there—when I realize, “This is not what I thought”—a question emerges, and my world expands a little.
I want to capture that moment.
My practice begins with a sensor for sadness.