My practice sits where fine art and high craft collide, turning existential dread into something you can actually encounter: an object with weight, a room with atmosphere, a surface that answers back. I’m interested in the absurd mechanisms we use to cope with relentless crises, the ways we perform stability while coming undone, and the strange comfort of finding your own feelings reflected outside your body.

I work across installation, sculpture, ceramics, textiles, and adornment. The medium shifts because the problem shifts. Sometimes the work needs to be immersive, sometimes it needs to be handheld, sometimes it needs to be wearable, and sometimes it needs to be quietly invasive, like a mirror that catches you in the act of performing wellness. That tension between intimacy and critique is the engine of the studio.

Much of my work begins with grief and stays there long enough to become useful. I externalize what is often left unspoken and build frameworks for people to look at hard things without being forced into solemnity. Dark humour is not a garnish here. It is a tool for access. If you can laugh, you can breathe. If you can breathe, you can stay with the truth a little longer.

The Existential Dreadlings is my current long-form project: an evolving cast of absurd figures that embody contemporary anxieties, from time collapse to emotional numbing, and invite viewers into recognition rather than resolution. The work spans formats, including sculptural iterations and an art deck, as well as zines and collectible objects that make the project portable and participatory. These are not answers. They are companions. They exist to say, clearly, that the void is crowded.

Across all bodies of work, I aim to create objects and experiences that linger. If it unsettles, amuses, or stays in your head longer than it should, it has done it’s job.