Swimming—the heavy rush in my ears, the pull of the water in my hands, ripples surging down and around my body—swimming calms with meditative repetition. My mind and my body flow together. I catch and pull the water, release, recover, and repeat. When I am swimming, I become muscle and movement.

Swimming and drawing are alike in this way. Pulling pencil across paper—softly, then quickly, sweeping forward and rolling back—my whole body shifts as I glide across the surface.

Inspired by water and physicality, I seek to release the lasting effect of past traumas, reconcile my own contrasting identities, and understand the mind-body connection.

As I move through my drawings and my sound pieces, I constantly question my ideas and choices. I shift my perception, my reasoning, fragments of sound, the strokes of my pencil – I blend and obscure, I redefine and sharpen.

My life effects my drawing – effects my writing – effects my voice – effects my life – effects my drawing–and so on forever—shifting, reflecting, and refracting like patterns in water.