I don't begin with an image in mind. My paintings develop through a slow process of looking, responding and undoing. I'm interested in the point where a surface begins to feel inevitable rather than composed.

My work has always been tied to landscape, but not in a descriptive sense. I'm interested in the way experience accumulates, how places leave traces long after we've left them. Having grown up across three different continents I think I became aware quite early that landscape isn't just something we look at. It becomes part of how we remember, orient ourselves and understand where we belong.

The paintings borrow from recurring structures I notice in the natural world—erosion, branching systems, mineral formations, weather—but I don't set out to represent them. They're more like underlying rhythms that shape the work as it develops. Recently I've begun incorporating natural mineral pigments into the paintings. I like that the materials carry something of the landscape themselves, rather than simply depicting it.

I’m looking for that moment when something unexpected begins to emerge from what initially feels uncertain.