I am an artist working with found and worn textiles, handling, deconstructing and remaking them as a way of holding difficult experience materially. Cloth carries memory in ways that resist easy explanation, and that resistance is where my practice begins.
Cloth worn against skin is not a neutral surface.
Does work arrive in the body before it reaches the mind?
What if meaning forms in the handling, before it can be said?
Ephemeral, bodily, domestic. What gets counted as significant, and by whom?
What does it mean to withhold, when disclosure is the default?
What gets lost when the work of keeping things going is not counted as significant?
The work does not ask much. Except that you stop, and look, and stay.