THE MAKING
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Before I begin composing a painting, I first create the material I'll work with. I begin by painting every sheet of Japanese paper by hand in my studio. Rather than aiming for a perfectly even surface, I allow each sheet to develop its own character. I create subtle transitions, traces, edges, marbled passages and gestures that can never be repeated in exactly the same way.

Painting the paper is not simply a preparation for the work. It is an essential part of the work.
At that stage, I'm not trying to control every outcome. I deliberately create the conditions in which something unexpected can happen. The paper becomes a place for discovery before it ever becomes part of a painting.

​Only once the paper has dried do I begin making more deliberate choices. I decide which areas belong in the painting and which don't. Some fragments are used almost untouched, others are cut, folded or layered until they become something different.

Thin Japanese paper on raw canvas.

​​I chose to work with an exceptionally thin Japanese paper because I wanted it to become almost inseparable from the raw canvas beneath it.

Once it's attached, the fibres of the paper and the fibres of the canvas begin to merge. In many places, the paper almost disappears.

​What remains is not a layer sitting on top of the canvas, but a surface where paper and canvas seem to become one.

A conversation between intention, material and discovery

I rarely start with a finished image in mind.
​Instead, the work develops gradually through looking, moving, removing, folding and rearranging. The same balance continues throughout the entire process. Some folds are made deliberately. Others emerge while working. 

​The final painting is not the execution of a fixed plan, nor is it the result of chance alone. It emerges through a continuous conversation between intention, material and discovery.

The paintings ask you to pause.

The paintings don't reveal everything at once. They ask the viewer to spend time looking. The longer you stay with them, the more they begin to unfold.

From a distance, the compositions often appear calm, minimal and carefully balanced. It's only when moving closer that another world begins to reveal itself. Delicate fibres. Transparent layers. Folded paper. Torn edges. Small variations in colour and texture that quietly slow the eye down.