"Untitled0236" Painting

My practice explores the idea of surface as a site of memory—where material does not simply exist, but records, absorbs, and transforms over time. Working primarily with acrylic on paper and unstretched canvas, I approach each piece as an evolving field rather than a fixed image, allowing structure to emerge, destabilise, and reconfigure through process. Much of my work begins with fragments—often derived from earlier paintings that are cut, displaced, and reassembled. This act of reconstruction is not purely formal; it reflects an ongoing interest in how histories persist within material. What has been removed is never entirely absent, and what is visible is only a partial resolution of what lies beneath. Each surface becomes layered with decisions—some reinforced, others resisted—forming a quiet tension between control and erosion. I am drawn to the threshold between structure and dissolution. Grids, blocks, and architectural suggestions appear throughout my work, but they rarely hold. Instead, they shift under pressure—interrupted by gesture, absorbed into fields of colour, or fractured into quieter remnants. This instability is central to my process. It allows the work to exist not as a finished composition, but as a record of becoming. Colour plays a critical role in establishing this condition. Often working within restrained palettes, I use saturation and density to create environments rather than images. In certain works, the dominance of red introduces a sense of heat, compression, and persistence—suggesting that the surface itself has undergone a form of stress or transformation. Here, colour is not descriptive but atmospheric; it defines the conditions under which structure attempts to exist. Across the body of work, repetition and variation function as a kind of visual language. Each piece stands independently, yet remains connected to a larger investigation into material memory and the shifting nature of form. Together, they form an archive of processes—cutting, layering, covering, revealing—where construction and breakdown are inseparable. Ultimately, my work resists clear resolution. I am less interested in presenting images than in creating surfaces that hold time—where memory is embedded not through representation, but through pressure, resistance, and accumulation. What remains is not a fixed narrative, but a trace of something that has been continuously forming and reforming.