My practice begins with a single question:

What do we truly see when we recognize someone’s presence?

As a child, I learned how clothing and adornment could transform the way a person was perceived. At the same time, I became aware of the distance between how others saw me and how I experienced myself. That gap became the origin of my practice, leading me to question what it is that allows us to sense another person’s existence.

I translate what I come to understand through my own life into works of art.

Everyday experiences, memories, emotions, moments of discomfort, and questions are not presented as they are. I first live with them, reflect on them, and gradually transform them into another form. Sometimes that form becomes language; at other times it becomes photography, textiles, metal, paper, light, or space. The medium is never the destination, but the most appropriate language for each thought.

Later, I encountered works of art that could be recognized without a signature. Their presence exceeded technique or style. Since then, I have been less interested in making objects than in exploring how presence itself can inhabit a work.

My works are not made to explain who I am.

Rather, by translating what I have discovered through my own life, I hope each viewer may find space to translate their own experiences in return.

A work of art is not an answer. It is an opening.

Within that openness, I believe people can meet beyond language, nationality, age, culture, or ability. Through those quiet acts of translation, new relationships can emerge.

The world is woven from countless translations of lived experience.

I simply offer one of them.