Cultural memory often moves quietly through gestures, patterns, and structures that persist over time. I grew up surrounded by forms that were not presented as art but existed in daily use. Fabrics were tied by hand, vessels hammered, and patterns drawn and redrawn. Repetition was embedded in everyday life, and without realizing it, repetition shaped how I see and build.

As I began making work, I became aware that repetition carries tension. It can preserve knowledge across generations, but it can also dull the individual voice within larger systems. I think about how people move within structures that demand constant output, and how inherited practices can be reduced to surface under industrial pressure. 

My work translates these inherited systems into new material and spatial forms. I am not replicating tradition. I work from what has been embedded in me and allowing it to shift across contexts. Through accumulation, fracture, and repair, I explore how forms persist even when parts are missing or altered.

Many of the crafts and ways that shaped my visual memory are becoming less visible in contemporary life. I do not approach them as relics. Instead I expand and recontextualize them so their labour and structure can be experienced consciously. The work unfolds in layers, offering attention to what is often overlooked.

At its core, my practice asks what survives despite displacement, or erasure. I build through repetition because it is both the method of survival and the site of strain. Forms change. Contexts shift. Somethings persist.