Here in my studio, nothing is preplanned. I start with movement—marks, lines, and quiet pauses—and let the work tell me where to go next. Over the years I’ve tried just about everything: acrylics, inks, collage, graphite, and digital layers. What keeps calling me back are abstract floras—living, breathing fields of color where lines wander, trace, and reconnect until a rhythm appears. My process is intuitive and organic. I draw and redraw; shapes lean into other shapes; forms overlap like petals in a breeze. Sometimes the composition settles into soft, botanical currents. Other times it snaps into something more geometric—mosaic-like grids and tessellations that hold the wildness in place. I love that tension: the fluent and the structured, the bloom and the scaffold. Color is the heartbeat. I work in bold, bright palettes and build depth through transparent layers, letting earlier gestures peek through. Tracing is a constant—threads that stitch areas together and create pathways for the eye. I’m not chasing a perfect flower or a literal landscape. I’m mapping movement, connection, and the feeling of growth. Each piece is an exploration rather than a destination. If there’s a guiding rule, it’s to stay open: to the happy accident, the unexpected edge, the moment a line finds another and suddenly the whole thing clicks. My hope is that the work invites you to wander—like walking through a garden you’ve never visited, turning corners, finding patterns, and noticing how everything quietly holds everything else.