The process is meditative by design. I layer, press, step away, and return, letting time work alongside me. Instead of forcing composition, I pay attention to what emerges. Texture builds slowly, like thought does when allowed to wander. These works are not about perfection. They are about presence.

So yes, the room is dark. And I don’t like the dark. It makes everything worse. It makes my thoughts louder. My chest tighter. I don’t trust the dark. It’s where the sad things grow. And I guess that’s what this is. Sadness. Or sickness. Or both. I don’t know anymore.