My process begins with brightly colored wool, cut freehand and sewn into vague anatomical forms—part organ, part feeling. Through repeated manipulation—sewing, burning, washing, melting, casting, I search for their theatrical potential. Some wool sculptures stand alone, while others become patterns for molds or are burned out entirely in a modified lost-wax process to create singular bronze or glass objects. In a work like Like Holding Water (2024), multiple smaller wax forms merge into larger, hybrid structures.

 

Carving a somatic sanctuary into an instantaneous world, I work intuitively, driven by the physical exchange between hand and material. My methods are intimate and labor-intensive. The gestures leave traces, scars, and residue on the work. The resulting forms are interior portraits—biological abstractions that stretch and swell into seductive cavities. They may evoke embryos, vulvas, or felted Russian snow boots “valenki.”

​

The ancient methods of bronze casting, glass forming, and textile work have long carried memory, ritual, and identity. Bronze was cast as language was written. Wool has clothed us for millennia. Glass was rare and sacred before it filled our screens. I do not seek to replicate these traditions, but rather to converse with them, to see how old knowledge can access contemporary experience.

​

Photographing my sculptures, I reintroduce them into the world through surround projection. Machines hum softly, casting warmth and light creating vibrating, womb-like environments. As viewers move through, their bodies interrupt the beams, casting shadows, merging with the images. Their presence activates, disturbs, and reshapes the work in real time.

This merging of body, object, image, and sound opens a space of reciprocity. My installations invite layered perception, where sculpture, light, and body enter an ongoing exchange—between inner and outer, self and other, ancient and now.