I came to painting the way some people come to language after

years of silence — not to say something new, but to finally say

what was already there.

My work moves through cycles of accumulation and erasure.

Charcoal is laid down and partially lifted. Plaster is built up

and carved back. Color appears sparingly, often withheld.

The surface becomes a record of what has been held onto

and what has been let go.

The body of work Anatomy of Erasure began as an inquiry into

identity, not as something fixed, but as something layered, inherited,

and continuously shifting. These paintings hold tension between

what is seen and what is felt, between presence and absence,

clarity and ambiguity.

I make work for people who know what

it is to carry something invisible.