Texture is where memory becomes physical. A raised mark, layered edge, or weathered passage can carry the feeling of something inherited—even before the viewer knows the story behind it.
My visual language is shaped by African and Asiatic art traditions, not as decoration, but as living systems of pattern, symbolism, discipline, and spiritual presence. I am interested in how a surface can hold ancestry and experimentation at the same time.
The hand leaves evidence. Every scrape, layer, and interruption records a decision. That evidence gives the eye somewhere to travel and gives the body a reason to move closer. The work asks to be experienced slowly, almost like reading a story through touch—even when touching is not permitted.
For me, texture keeps history visible. It allows the painting to remember how it was made while leaving space for the viewer to bring their own memories forward.