"I often find inspiration in what unexpectedly appears outdoors: an empty bird’s nest revealing how it was built, seaweed wrapped around a stone, or the way roots carve their path through the earth. These small details usually escape our attention, and perhaps that’s what draws me most—the awareness that an entire system is unfolding without us as the main actors. Over the past months, I’ve been working in the Arctic, where the intertwining of people and landscape strikes me deeply—not as backdrop, but as a mutual relationship. This connection broadens my perspective, influencing both how I see and what I create."

"My practice often unfolds without a camera, using light-sensitive paper that I take into the field. Sometimes I arrive with a location or idea in mind, but usually it begins with close observation and presence. Elements I find in the landscape—a branch, seaweed, feathers, or tracks—make direct contact with the paper, creating a full-scale imprint. The final size and orientation emerge partly on site, dictated by what I discover. Light, weather, and organic material leave their traces over minutes or hours. Wind or rain can entirely transform the image. Not every attempt succeeds; I work iteratively, laying the paper, exposing it, observing, adjusting, and sometimes starting over. The essence of my process is allowing the environment to contribute, creating images I could never fully pre-visualize."

"Since 2025, my family and I have been living aboard a sailboat, journeying from the Arctic toward the Pacific Ocean. Life so close to water, weather, and light has changed how I work. Onboard, I maintain a small darkroom and explore how natural elements themselves can shape images. I experiment with photograms in tidal zones and sea water, observing how photographic materials react to salt, currents, and changing light. In the Arctic, I began the series Tracing the Circle, creating direct imprints of plants, water, and weather—records of places in flux. The works do not represent landscapes; they are collaborations with what is present at that moment."

"Creating work aboard a sailboat amidst constantly changing landscapes is already a dream in itself. I also hope to collaborate across disciplines—with a poet, musician, or biologist—to explore what happens when images intersect with language, sound, or research. I dream of experimenting with larger formats, too; photograms are life-size prints, but how does scale change perception when truly magnified? And someday, I hope to make a book you can slowly lose yourself in, like wandering through the landscapes that inspired the images."