I create from the quiet place where grief, rebellion, and ritual meet. My work is not about image-making-it is about witnessing, about crafting a visual language that speaks from the margins, from exile, from a self that refuses to be commodified or silenced.

Over the past 20 years, I have built a body of work in resistance to the gatekept, performance-driven art world that often rewards obedience over originality. I have refused the pressure to join institutions that demand submission in exchange for visibility. My work is made outside the system, because it must be. It is too personal, too spiritual, too defiant to survive there without distortion.

My photographs move between the constructed and the organic, the surreal and the documentarian. I use the body-often my own-as a site of contradiction, memory, absurdity, and ritual. I work with symbols: fruit, gauze, domestic objects, gestures of prayer or collapse. These images are not meant to be consumed quickly. They are slow offerings, meant to be sat with, questioned, and felt. I am not interested in ego, fame, or spectacle. I am interested in truth, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it isolates me. Being an artist, to me, is not about self-expression-it’s about making a space for others to recognize what they’ve been told to forget: their own depth, their own mystery, their own resistance.

My work has been kept out of galleries not because it lacks value, but because it refuses to play the game. Still, I continue. Because I believe in art as a form of communion-a place where those of us who see clearly can meet, unfiltered and uncompromised.

This is not art made for validation.

It is art made from survival, from integrity, and from the insistence that what is real must be made visible, even when the world turns its face away.