The Who?

Art has always been my safe space, a quiet sanctuary where I can medicate my wandering mind. For many years, I lived my first dream: I spent my career as a ballet dancer with the Hamburg Ballet under John Neumeier, moving across stages around the world. At the age of 32, I made the difficult decision to step away from dancing, leaving behind a part of myself that had been my home for so long.

On a personal level, I fell out of love with making my body perform the movements, but I never fell out of love with the art form itself. I think many of us go through this. We believe we have fallen out of love entirely, when often it is the relationship that changes, not the feeling. Sometimes it is an act of care to let something go, rather than holding on so tightly that we lose what made it meaningful. Letting go, I have learned, is sometimes the only way to honour what once carried us.

There was still, however, grief. Grief in leaving behind a life shaped by movement and silence, a life that had been so much a part of who I was. Yet beneath that grief, something steady had always been waiting. Art was there, patient and sure, offering me a space to return to without expectation or demand. A love that nourished, protected, and allowed me to rebuild.

Now, I move differently. I move through shapes, through textures, through the layered spaces between memory and feeling. I move through emotions too: emotions that spill onto a page, a canvas, or anything my hands can reach. Art gathers the pieces of my journey, the seen and unseen, and gives them form. It allows me not only to tell my own stories, but to leave space for others to find their own.

I hope that my work creates a place where it is safe to feel: to feel joy, to feel lost, to feel uncertain, to feel seen. Life pulls each of us through different fires. Some are large, some are quiet, some still burn unseen beneath the surface. I believe change is like fire. It is necessary, it is dangerous, and it is beautiful. If we tend it carefully, it can sustain us, transform us, and carry us forward.

Each piece I create is a quiet part of me: a memory shaped by movement, a feeling I have tried to understand, a story I am still learning how to tell.

I cannot tell you what to find here. I can only offer what I could not keep inside.

If something here meets you where you are, even for a moment, I am grateful.

Eliot