I often start without an end in mind. I work with what is already present: the place I’m in, the tools I have, the material, my own strength and mood. By breaking familiar patterns—sometimes gently, almost invisibly—I discover new possibilities. A work is never truly finished; it keeps shifting, waiting to be reopened, seen and understood anew.

In my studio, questions come before knowledge, and materials come before questions. I start with what is at hand — fragments waiting for meaning. Listening becomes a way of working. Loss, both remembered and unfolding, is part of that process. Through absence and imperfection, new forms emerge. Each key in the Key Series opens new layers of meaning — a practice of attention, moving from vulnerability to form.

A reflection on care, frugality and mildness, about finding meaning in what already exists, how materials become whole in the right context.