I build sculptural systems that hold conversations between people, technology, and the silent intelligence of the world. My work begins where geometry meets ecology: in the observation of how wind loads distribute through a steel frame, how light communicates across scales, how a community describes home in six languages. These invisible relationships become the underlying architecture of each piece.
I am a maker who moves between digital precision and craft intuition. I model in three dimensions, test structural logic in software, then weld, solder, and shape by hand. This hybrid process lets me combine the accuracy of code with the humility of material—the way steel resists, the way glass glows, the way a circuit fails and reveals a better path. Nature is not a surface to copy but a system to channel: fractals that optimize load, networks that distribute energy, symmetries that emerge from simple rules. These patterns generate forms that feel simultaneously alien and familiar, as if the site itself might have grown them.
After fifteen years managing logistics for industrial construction, I became a full-time artist not to escape complexity but to understand it from the ground up. That experience taught me to read engineering drawings and listen between the lines—to hear what a community needs when they describe home, or how a structural constraint might become a sculpture’s most meaningful feature. I left that world to build a practice where I could problem-solve without a safety net, mastering every element from structural steel to LED control systems. Now I am ready to bring that mastery back to larger teams.
Collaboration is central to my practice. I build alongside engineers, planners, and communities, embedding accessibility and technical integrity into every decision. I listen to the voices of ancestors and newcomers alike, honoring those who came before and those writing the next chapter. Light, for me, is not illumination but language—a way to make invisible connections visible, to create moments of empathy in shared space.
Each installation becomes a distributed intelligence: sensing, responding, evolving without my hand. They are built to survive through winters and touch and years of silent operation. My goal is not to fill space but to transform it, to turn overlooked environments into living ecosystems where curiosity, belonging, and awareness take root long after the first encounter.
