I’m drawn to the delicate and organic—whether the material itself was living or showing the expression of life. There’s beauty in the contrast between a solid surface and a fragile layer, either placed atop or embedded within it. This contrast creates an impression that if you were to touch it, the material has potential to further change. It speaks to temporality and ephemerality—the fleeting nature of existence.

I capture both the literal moments of decay along with a reimagined version of it—combining symbols of life like fragile petals, leaves, mud, rocks, molding berries, and dead bugs. My goal is to freeze these moments in time, though not to necessarily preserve them permanently. The process of decay itself creates intricate and beautiful new colors and textures. Such as Patina, which is greening or rusting of the surface due to oxidation.What will happen if I coat a berry or a dead grasshopper into a thin layer of Liquitex, or encase it in gesso or spackle? Petals and leaves quickly turn yellow and brown when coated, but if left untreated, they dry out and become brittle. I use the colors and stages of decay to capture these transformations of mold and rot. My paintings are a window into decay—a “living” process for the viewer's  contemplation.

Tormented by memento mori, I follow the  traditions of still life painting. I am, in a sense, creating a still life, but not entirely. The material is literal and in constant flux.Through my process, I reflect our human desire to control the uncontrollable. We try to hold onto memories by attempting to preserve them for as long as we can, but nothing is permanent. Memory is faulty, time is ever-moving, always shifting what we hold dear. This slow, natural progression of time is what I’m capturing. This is my beauty: the unfolding of life in all its stages, delicate and raw.