A Gentle Sort of Restlessness is a series of hand-carved wooden sculptures that suggest speculative archaeological artifacts. The work began with an image that could be read equally as a violent struggle or a loving embrace. That unresolved contradiction became the foundation for questioning how we understand behavior when certainty remains elusive.

The hand-carved sculptures have impossible anatomies, exposed joinery, accumulated repairs, and deliberate imperfections. Chisel marks, visible seams, and alterations are not flaws to conceal but evidence to interpret. Like archaeological objects, they invite the reconstruction of histories that can never fully reach certainty.

Wood is central to this work because history is already embedded within it. Every carved mark is evidence that someone shaped the object by hand, while every repair acknowledges that objects, like people, accumulate damage, adaptation, and care over time.

The figures have no fixed identities, relationships, or intentions. Their behaviors feel familiar, yet remain impossible to confirm. I am interested in how we construct meaning from incomplete evidence, and how those meanings become inherited.

How Much Earth For Sale? is a site-responsive sculpture built from rammed earth, concrete, wood, and steel. Drawing on one of the world's oldest construction techniques, the work treats earth as both material and metaphor—something that carries memory while remaining subject to ownership, extraction, and dispute.

Conceived as a monument, even for those with whom we disagree, the sculpture considers how land becomes contested through legal systems, political ideologies, and competing historical narratives. Its open framework echoes the familiar outline of a Monopoly house, painted in warning orange to suggest both construction and caution. It remains intentionally incomplete, exposing the fragile relationship between shelter, territory, and authority.

The work is informed by Johnson v. M'Intosh (1823), the landmark United States Supreme Court decision that established the federal government's exclusive authority to acquire land from Native American nations. That ruling reshaped ownership across the United States, reducing land to a commodity while permanently altering relationships between people, place, and sovereignty.

Rather than illustrating this history, the sculpture asks how systems of ownership become normalized and how monuments might acknowledge difficult histories without resolving them. By bringing together an ancient building material and a contemporary architectural reference, How Much Earth For Sale? reflects on environmental responsibility, historical redress, and the lasting consequences of the decisions societies choose to preserve.

I Don't Know, You Don't Know, They Don't Know began with an uncomfortable realization: if most of us know little about our own histories beyond a few generations, how confidently can we claim to understand histories far removed from our own experience? The histories we inherit are incomplete, shaped by memory, omission, and interpretation.

Written records tell only part of the story. I became interested in how knowledge is carried across generations through objects, rituals, habits, and social and familial customs.

Sculpture and drawing developed in parallel. The mixed-media drawings accumulate layers of faces that fold into one another, while the carved busts resist singular identities, suggesting figures shaped by overlapping personal, cultural, and historical inheritances.
The work does not attempt to resolve uncertainty. It begins there.

Arrogance & Evidence uses sculpture, installation, and theatrical illusion to question what happens when conviction outweighs empirical evidence.

At the center of the installation, a mobile theatrical flat printed to resemble stacked sandbags performs the appearance of protection while remaining visibly incapable of providing it. Repositioned in response to each site, it changes with its surroundings while continually exposing the distance between symbolic reassurance and material consequence.

Surrounding sculptural elements evoke an archaeological excavation in which physical evidence appears available but never fully resolves into certainty. Viewers assemble narratives from incomplete information, only to discover that the installation continually resists definitive interpretation.

Environmental denial serves as a point of departure for considering how observable evidence can be displaced by conviction, performance, and manufactured narratives. The installation leaves viewers to consider the consequences of symbolic action when material action is required.