Welcome to Feelings Fragments

This is the part of my studio that doesn’t hang on a wall or ship to a collector. It’s the part that lives in notebooks, in late-night thoughts, in quiet observations I’ve never really had a place to put before. If Works and Commissions show what I make, this is where I leave what I feel.

I’ve lived in New York for over a decade, and in that time, the city has shaped me and undone me, often in the same breath. I’ve built, broken, reassembled, and started over more times than I can count. My work — sculptural, textured, imperfect — carries those echoes. The cracks, the surfaces, the weight and stillness of plaster and stone all feel like pieces of me.

Feelings has always been more than a name to me — it’s a way of seeing. It’s always been about the space in between — the silence, the atmosphere, the feeling you can’t quite name but know in your bones.

It’s the quiet in-between moments, the textures that pull you in, the weight of stillness that makes you notice yourself.

This space is where I share fragments of my world. Art, objects, interiors, rituals — all shaped by the question: how does it feel?

Art, for me, has never been just about objects or images. it’s a place to hold the things that don’t fit anywhere else: thoughts that arrive at midnight, moments that stay with me long after they’ve passed, the kind of rawness that doesn’t need polish.

Beauty isn’t just something you look at; it’s something you sense.

A cracked surface, the way light bends across stone, the atmosphere in a room when scent, sound, and form align. That’s where the real story lives.

Here you’ll find glimpses of my process, pieces of work in motion, and the inspirations that surface along the way. Not polished to perfection, but alive — imperfect in the ways that make them human.

So this is Entry One.

The first trace of something more personal, more vulnerable. A beginning, but not one I’ve over-designed. Just me, here, leaving a piece of myself with you.

If you’re reading this, it means you’ve stepped into the part of my studio that is closest to my heart.

Welcome in.

Echoes of Memory

There’s something about the sound of the 80s that lingers— raw guitars, voices cracking through reverb, a kind of yearning pressed into every note. It feels comfortably nostalgic, but not in a way that belongs only to the past. For me, it’s always been the soundtrack to growing up, the backdrop to so many moments that shaped me.

This music has carried me through different chapters of my life — from the quiet nights when I needed to feel less alone, to the louder ones where everything felt electric and infinite. It’s woven into who I am, a reminder that the sounds we create now are always connected to what came before us.

That’s why this feels like the perfect first post to begin here. 80s music is more than a genre to me; it’s a living archive of memory, courage, and inspiration. These songs remind me that people before us were always searching, always pushing sound into new places. That kind of spirit is what inspires me to keep creating today.

This playlist is a small archive of that feeling — restless, alive, and always searching.

xx