I make things that are kind of… sticky. Not literally - though sometimes, yes - but the kind that happens between your eyes and your stomach. My work begins where words fail - at the edges of rupture, in the quiet after impact. It asks us to feel pain without spectacle, torment without reenactment, abuse without reenlisting the harmed body into visibility. I do not reproduce trauma; I trace what lingers - command, silence, obedience.
My sculptures inhabit the realm of leaky bodies - forms with wounded or invented openings, bodies that cannot hold themselves closed, architectures that behave like flesh, objects that remember pain. Their logic is built from misinterpretation, from the debris of childhood understanding. I honour the collapse of language that accompanies overwhelm. Play becomes a lure, a seduction that lowers guards just long enough for the wound to surface. I wield camp: amplified, exaggerated, disarming. The moment you laugh, you are caught. The moment you enjoy, you are implicated.
My work lives inside the pause where humour and horror touch, where tenderness leaks through armour, where mastery is unreachable, and repetition offers no comfort. The body is neither healed nor broken. It is simply still here.
