A Symphony You Can Feel

Once, there was a melody that couldn’t be heard—only felt. It wasn’t born from instruments or notes, but from lived moments, scattered thoughts, and quiet emotions that refused to line up neatly. These fragments carried weight, memory, and tension. Slowly, they began to gather.

Some fragments were smooth and warm, like the memory of being held. Others were sharp, striped, and urgent, vibrating with movement. There was laughter embedded in certain forms, and deep silence pressed into others. Each element held its own rhythm and mood—some geometric and precise, others fluid and organic. On their own, they felt incomplete. Together, they hinted at something larger.

At first, they didn’t speak the same language. As I worked, they pushed against one another—wood meeting curve, painted surface interrupting raw material, dimensional lines stretching into space. There was resistance. Adjustment. Listening. A black curve leaned toward a wooden line. A circle settled into a space it didn’t originally claim. Through this process, chaos slowly turned into choreography.

This approach reflects my broader practice, which is rooted in process, intuition, and material exploration. Whether layering acrylic, shaping wood, or working with ink, each decision is part of a conversation with the work itself—allowing textures, lines, and shapes to find their own rhythm. The resulting pieces are sculptural, dimensional, and immersive: experiences collectors can live with, move around, and return to again and again.

This particular work tells a story of coexistence. Of how contrasting parts—within ourselves or within our lives—can find rhythm when we stop trying to smooth them out. The harmony here isn’t perfect or quiet. It’s alive. It pulses. It exists not despite difference, but because of it.

For collectors, this piece is more than an image or object—it’s a living dialogue in space, meant to evoke reflection, curiosity, and emotional resonance. Its dimensionality and tactile materials invite a personal connection, making it a work that grows richer with time and attention.