The figures I shape — in clay, in 3D, in that space between — carry posture, tension, and unresolved memory. They’re human, or almost. They borrow from animals. They lean toward the classical, then quietly resist it and maybe fail.

The recurring figure in my practice, like in my first solo sculpture exhibition Gaslighted, is never fixed. She, or he, or it moves between pride and fragility, between desire and withdrawal, constantly shaped and reshaped by the forces around her. The same subject, living in different shapes, skins, materials.

These aren’t closed forms. They’re organisms in process, suspended mid-becoming.