Jello Print

North of Seattle, I work in oil, pastel, wood, and metal—materials that speak in weight, friction, and gesture. My process is instinctive: a negotiation between chaos and structure, breath and pressure. Paintings emerge like weather systems; sculptures like remnants or artifacts, half-remembered and half-discovered. I chase the edge where form unravels, where memory, body, and landscape blur. Each piece holds something unsettled—movement, residue, a kind of presence. Nothing is too fixed. Everything moves. My work follows the shape of what’s almost there—and leaves space for what can’t be named.