Obviousness is one of the most effective forms of concealment.

What we know, recognise and accept often escapes scrutiny precisely because it is familiar. My practice begins where this familiarity turns against itself — where the obvious is unsettled by its own contradiction.

I enter the wound in obviousness — the point at which the surface of things is no longer enough.

I construct works as thought situations given material form. An idea is not something to be illustrated, but something to be made experimentially present. Form, material, symbol, title and context are brought into precise relation, allowing what first appears stable or self-evident to become uncertain.

In this sense, my works operate like koans. They are intentional constructions rather than open-ended riddles: meaning is embedded within them without being disclosed. The viewer may arrive elsewhere, but the work has its own internal logic.

Every certainty is only a temporary agreement between what exists and our capacity to read it.

No single subject, medium or visual language defines my practice. Sculpture, installation, public intervention, video, performance or other forms are determined by the thought that precedes them. I have no interest in developing a recognisable style for its own sake; repetition of a formal vocabulary would limit the questions a work is able to ask.

What persists across my practice is therefore not a subject or an aesthetic, but a method: locating an apparent certainty, entering its wound, and constructing a form capable of holding the contradiction open without resolving it.