My work begins in quiet observation — an intentional slowing down to notice what is typically passed over, specifically textures. These images invite the viewer into a closer relationship with the deep and often overlooked details, asking them to confront the beauty and fragility embedded in the everyday.

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Each photograph is printed in black and white on a fine-art rag paper, stripping away distraction and grounding the image in material presence. From there, the process becomes increasingly visceral and unstable. The prints are submerged for 24 hours in substances tied to ritual and consumption — whiskey, coffee, wine — liquids that carry cultural weight, indulgence, and dependency. These materials stain, distort, and embed themselves into the surface, becoming inseparable from the image.

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The final act introduces risk. I set the prints on fire — not to destroy them entirely, but to surrender partial control. The flame leaves behind scars, burns, and unpredictable transformations. Each piece exists in tension between preservation and ruin, intention and chance.

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This process reflects my own complicated relationship with hyper-consumerism and its entanglement with the global climate. The very substances used to alter the prints are symbols of consumption, comfort, and excess, while the act of burning echoes cycles of renewal and destruction that feel both distant and deeply personal. The work resists resolution: it sits in contradiction.

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Drawing from Ecclesiastes 1:1 — “Everything is meaningless”— the project does not offer answers but instead embraces ambiguity. It questions value, permanence, and consequences in a world where beauty and damage are often inseparable. Through these altered surfaces, I seek to create objects that are both intimate and uneasy — artifacts of attention, consumption, and quiet collapse.