My work begins with impulse and embodied listening, movement before explanation, sensation before meaning. I often enter a process through a physical condition, image, material, or space and allow its logic to emerge through doing. I am less interested in illustrating an idea than in creating an experience where meaning can accumulate gradually and remain open.

I am drawn to physical conditions that can be understood before they need to be interpreted: weight, resistance, distance, repetition, stillness. A heavy rope is heavy before it becomes migration, burden, attachment, comfort, or something else. That shared physical recognition gives an audience a way into the work without requiring them to understand it in the same way I do.

I often work with very few elements. A rope, a source of light, a repeated task, a doorway, or a body in relation to a room can hold complexity when given time and attention. Material can begin to feel like a partner. Light can organize a world. A repeated action can gradually become an image.

Space enters the work early. I am interested in what a room already asks of a body, and in the point where performer, audience, material, and architecture begin shaping one another. I do not want a work simply reproduced from one venue to the next. I want each encounter to be changed by its particular space, audience, and conditions.

Across different works, I return to memory, migration, caregiving, inheritance, belonging, womanhood, labor, and transformation. These are often personal sources, but I do not want them to tell an audience what they are supposed to see. I want to create precise physical conditions that can be felt, while leaving enough space for someone else’s experience to enter.