My work emerges from a search or a longing for home - within and outside.  Imagery in my works move through a landscape populated by wandering houses, floating objects, walking clouds, birds carrying invisible messages, and figures suspended between arrival and departure. Sometimes, especially when reinterpreting mythology, images become a lot of floral & include animals.

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Some motifs appear repeatedly in my work, like aquatic lives, birds, house, plants, mountains, sleeping people etc. They seem to walk, drift, hover, migrate. They grows legs, roots, wings, refusing permanence. Like migratory birds crossing continents, they moves in the direction of invisible forces — memory, loss, hope, necessity. These motifs together on one plane of existence become a living organism, carrying its inhabitants through contradiction -  a shelter and a burden.  Composite structure made of lines and paints and paper, they're a map of living connectivity.

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In this map, rivers become veins, roads transform into roots, telephone wires become nervous systems, cities dissolve into forests. Human bodies float above these transformations. My endeavour is to make the boundaries between my-self and other become porous. We don't exist alone. Like a meal is connected to soil, labor, weather, a memory is connected to a space, a sound, a season. ​I strive to tap into the collective memory with my work. The faultiness between visible and invisible -  things that once held within us a larger web of meaning.

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These objects inhabiting the picture space carry chapters of my life within themselves.  The landscape these objects/figures find themselves in are a field of philosophic speculation. Mountains become furniture. Clouds and houses grow feet. In these spaces, imagination and memory coexist, allowing alternative forms to emerge : reiterating that home/ our minds are an illusion. For me, it is something continuously assembled through acts of connection. Maybe it is the network we form with people, places, animals, objects, stories, feeling etc.

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I continue searching for home, not because I expect to arrive somewhere, but because the search itself reveals the hidden roads that bind us to the rest of the material world - the map of connections I was drawing all along.