Works On Paper

Much of my work involves re-examining parts of life we tend to take for granted. These are often the aspects of experience that struggle to be recognised within systems increasingly organised around efficiency and financial outcomes. Yet it is frequently these overlooked dimensions — colour, care, time, attention and material engagement — that bring depth and connection to our lives.

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Our world is an extraordinary arrangement of numerical patterns spanning almost every domain of human activity. Mathematics, finance, engineering and physics all rely on formulas that organise how systems behave. Yet we rarely pause to reflect on their intrinsic beauty or the ways these patterns quietly shape everyday life.

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For me, creative practice offers a way of reconnecting with these systems through embodied engagement. Working across different forms of making — drawing, stitching, photography and material experimentation — opens spaces where perception deepens and understanding emerges through doing. Repetition, attention and play become ways of learning from materials themselves. These practices resonate with what anthropologist Ellen Dissanayake describes as artification: the deeply human impulse to mark, shape, repeat, elaborate and pattern the world through creative acts. In this sense, making becomes not simply a skill but a way of sensing, knowing and participating in the living systems around us.

Stitching Works

Part of the reason I stitched these formulas is simply because I enjoy sewing. Sewing can be calming, empowering when things work and humbling when they do not. My grandmother sewed constantly and I always loved the things she made. She may not have been a mathematician, but she understood patterns, measurements and materials. Using her sewing machine — itself a technological marvel of its time — she transformed simple fabrics into practical and beautiful objects for the people around her, each piece carrying her personal signature.

In Softly Quantified I draw inspiration from this sensibility by sewing the formulas that organise contemporary life, from physics to finance. Hundreds of formulas have been stitched by hand. Each stitch forms a small knot creating a letter; each letter becomes part of a formula whose loose threads extend outward like tactile networks of connection. Through the slow process of sewing these formulas I began to see them differently. What often appears abstract or technical becomes material, sensory and human. The formulas soften. They become something lived with rather than simply calculated.

Ink and Drawing Works

I have always had a deep love of colour. Colour changes how I feel and how I perceive the world. Working with water and ink can feel like listening to music or watching a sunset unfold — expansive, intricate, rapidly moving yet slowly settling. There is something meditative about this engagement with materials; it becomes a way of metabolising experience.

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Drawing moves me into a similar space. Concentration deepens and the connection between hand, tool and surface becomes heightened. Breath takes on a quiet rhythm while the body registers subtle tensions, balances and movements. Memories arise, associations combine and conversations seem to emerge with the wider world of forms and materials. In these moments drawing becomes both solitary and relational — a practice of attention that connects body, imagination and environment.