Artist Statement

This image is about containment rather than harm.

The figure is not in crisis. They are waiting. The posture is inward, self-supporting. The light enters the space without permission, dividing the room into warmth and exposure, interior and exterior.

I’m interested in moments where vulnerability exists without spectacle. There is no climax here, no intervention. The scene resists rescue narratives. What matters is the quiet negotiation between body and environment.

The red light remains distant. It does not touch the figure. That distance is intentional. It allows tension without threat, presence without intrusion.

This work continues my exploration of how bodies—especially small ones—adapt to spaces they did not choose. Not through drama, but through stillness.

Artist Statement

This work is about the moment before meaning forms.

The figure and the bird share the same light, but not the same intention. One is waiting; the other is alert. The space between them is minimal, yet charged—held open by restraint rather than fear.

I wanted the light to function as a boundary rather than a symbol. It divides temperature, direction, and possibility without offering resolution. The red remains behind the figure, pressing inward, while the cooler light marks a threshold that is visible but not crossed.

My practice often returns to these quiet negotiations—where stillness becomes an active choice and proximity does more emotional work than contact. Nothing here is asking to be saved. Everything is simply present.

This piece represents a point of arrival in my figurative work: not escalation, but refinement.

Artist Statement

This work is about proximity, not rescue.

The figure and the bird occupy the same space, but they do not touch. That distance matters. It mirrors the way moments of recognition often arrive—not as solutions, but as quiet acknowledgments.

The light is intentionally unnatural. It doesn’t belong to a specific time of day or place. I wanted the environment to feel suspended, as if the scene exists outside of ordinary chronology. What remains is not context, but presence.

I’m interested in moments where vulnerability is not dramatic, but contained—where stillness carries more weight than action. The bird is not symbolic in a traditional sense. It is simply another body navigating the same space, governed by different instincts.

This piece sits within my broader practice as a reminder that not all tension is loud. Some of it waits patiently, at floor level, asking only to be noticed.