I approach drawing as a controlled system for recording how the body and mind respond to constraints. My process begins by setting foundational rules: a specific tool, a material starting point, or a chosen setting. Once the parameters are fixed, the execution is entirely intuitive. Because I do not pre-plan where the lines will land, the drawing unfolds through split-second decisions at every turn.

Working primarily with India ink, steel dip pens, and cotton paper, I draw repetitive lines, each responding directly to the one before it. Because ink on cotton is unforgiving, every mark is an irreversible decision locked into a specific moment in time. The line acts as a direct register of my internal state, whether mental focus, emotional tension, or too much caffeine, colliding with external reality: the friction of the steel nib catching on paper fibers, table vibrating from a passing train, wind drying the ink on the pen, or a sudden interruption breaking my concentration.

In Topographies, I bring this studio-bound ink setup into unpredictable public spaces, absorbing environmental disruptions into a fractured composite planned across twenty panels, where each sheet must answer to a larger architectural whole. In the studio, standalone Études strip away these compositional demands, isolating the line in a single sitting to test its behavior in pure, unpressured form. Across other bodies of work, using pigment stains or swept fields of acrylic paint, the same logic applies: line systems are drawn to measure, follow, or push against material limits.