I’m fascinated by stories. The ones we’ve carried mouth to mouth since the beginning of humanity. The ones we invent to explain the sky, our neighbors, our mistakes. The ones we tell to teach, to entertain, to survive awkward dinners.

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We create to understand our friends, our families, our communities, our own kind. We create to understand ourselves. It feels innate, a natural impulse. Create, create, create. How could I resist?

 

Photography is my excuse to step outside and really look. To examine the corner of a street as if it might confess something. To notice the quiet scenes already mid-story, waiting for someone to pay attention.​ Painting and animation allow me to construct worlds that exist nowhere except in my head. With lines and color, I can speak without speaking directly.

 

If storytelling is natural to us, then making art is simply participating. And honestly, it would be strange not to join in.