I often refrain from speaking unless required; and when I do, I often feel that what I say is unnecessary. The words are like a hemorrhage, a bleed of thoughts that my brain can't string together fast enough. Not being able to articulate something, to explain the ideas I have to share, it's exhausting. I am also an introvert, so my social battery is frequently low and in need of a recharge.

 

My work uses visual language to communicate what I am not able to. The universe is not a simple structure but is one that holds tightly to its rules and regularities. Patterns grounded in mathematical properties can juxtapose and layer with each other to shape the words I need. My choice of medium becomes dependent on the intricacy and structure of the designs I am working on at the time. When I work with charcoal drawing, it lends me the ability to create a distinct depth between foreground, middle ground and background. By focusing on the vibrancy and clean lines of acrylic paint I can convey the sharp and calculated exactness of nature's architecture.

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I have yet to find one unified voice that I believe is most truthful to myself as well as to the subject matter. I am committed to searching for a process that will allow me to find that voice I so often lose. But in this search, I've begun to question what, in fact, I am being truthful to?