I make abstract work because abstraction is capacious enough to hold contradictions that ordinary language often cannot.
The paintings, works on paper, sculptural pieces, photographs, and writing that emerge from this practice belong to an ongoing body of work I call Working Rage. The name describes the pressure that remains after politeness has failed, but destruction is not an acceptable answer. It is not rage performed for spectacle. It is rage examined, disciplined, redirected, and transformed into form.
Every mark is made by hand. Layers are built, scraped away, stained, stitched, torn, obscured, and rebuilt. The surfaces record decisions rather than illustrations. They are less interested in depicting events than in revealing what emotional pressure looks like when it is given structure.
Materials matter. Heavy cotton papers, Asian papers, canvas, inks, dyes, acrylics, stitching, wire, and other physical interventions are chosen not simply for their appearance, but for the ways they permit resistance, vulnerability, translucency, fracture, repair, and persistence to exist together on a single surface.
The work draws upon a lifelong study of art history, history, language, literature, and visual culture. Rather than quoting any one tradition, it attempts to participate in an ongoing conversation about abstraction, memory, identity, and the human capacity to continue making meaning after certainty has broken apart.
Nothing here asks for agreement. Nothing asks for pity. The work asks only that viewers remain with it long enough to notice that beneath every rupture is evidence of construction, and beneath every construction is evidence of restraint.
Working Rage is not about finding comfort.
It is about discovering what remains possible when beauty and pressure are allowed to occupy the same surface.