At the heart of my creative practice is a dedication to the mortality of human beings and the silent eternity of the world around us. I create as a reminder in the critical moments to interrogate my purpose, for I cease to exist and the fish keep swimming in the stream, to dress up in the lies of story and stomach the truths about each other, in every wretchedness I hope to remember this and claim it for all it’s selfishness, for I am an artist. In the stomach of my obsession is the manic and pensive composed by lighting and colour and driven by writing resonant. Many things are made because they make sense, more must be made because they’re undeniable.
