Statement

Not pictures to look at. Spaces to enter.

I work with light the way a geologist works with rock. Looking for what pressure leaves behind.

The images begin in the real world: a reflection, a surface, water, movement. Then I push them past recognition. What remains is colour, pressure and space. Not a picture of something. A physical presence.

I keep working until the image has its own atmosphere. Across the series I return to a few quiet structures: apertures, seams, mirrored axes, fields of grain. They don't point to objects; they behave like openings. The eye keeps re-scaling: microscopic one second, sky-wide the next. What felt distant becomes interior.

Colour becoming a place you can enter.

Texture is evidence here: grain, scratches, soft distortions. Records of friction and time. Colour is temperature, not description: electric blues leaning into shadow, heated reds, golds that flare into white. Something the body registers before the mind names it.

Time runs through it as condition, not subject, but a seam where one state becomes another, the now gathering into substance rather than passing through.

A work should not explain itself. It should hold the wall.

I name a work and then let it go. What you find in it is yours.