I approach my practice as an ongoing exploration, where questions lead to more questions rather than answers.

In my work, I’ve been researching and crafting domestic environments that foster growth. By studying houseplants, I’ve discovered that growth requires adaptation, research, and trial. It is through trial that I learned the importance of the right environment, the right soil for roots to take hold, and how cutting back can spur new growth. I learned that starting over can open up new possibilities.

My art practice is much the same—an ongoing process of exploration and experimentation. I fail, I believe, I question, and I don’t aim for any singular answer. The questions I ask are more important than the answers, as I am continuously seeking. Does nature, in its quiet wisdom, show us how to adapt and grow?

Somewhere along the way to adulthood, I’ve lost something fundamental—a universal experience, perhaps. From climbing trees and returning home covered in mud to living surrounded by concrete. City life reshapes my relationship with nature; it no longer happens in forests or open spaces but in my home, through a potted plant.

I combine these themes in my work to encourage reflection on our shared responsibility—not only to each other but to the earth itself. I strive to create art that demands care, never to be abandoned or forgotten, but valued as something that thrives through ongoing attention. My goal is to ensure my work is not merely an investment but a living expression of nurturing and responsibility, mirroring the very values I wish to convey. Through this, I hope to inspire dialogue about care, connection, and the delicate balance that sustains us all.