This body of work emerged from the intimate geography of recollection—those formative moments when pencil first met paper in careful cursive loops, when the red margins and blue lines of composition notebooks became sacred boundaries for an emerging voice. What began as childhood handwriting practice in those familiar notebooks evolved into a decades-long conversation with poetry, a practice I've maintained since 1987.
In these works, fiber transcends its traditional supporting role to become language itself. Through deliberate acts of sewing, gluing, and weaving yarns of varying weights and textures, I've created a tactile vocabulary that speaks to both the fragility and persistence of memory. Each piece originates from my own poetry—sometimes fractured into essential phrases, sometimes presented whole with yarn highlighting specific words to reveal secondary poems hidden within the primary text. These highlighted threads create a palimpsest of meaning, where multiple narratives coexist in a single visual field.
For over a year, I've built this collection in deliberate solitude, sharing only glimpses as the work evolved. This privacy felt essential—a return to an era when art could gestate without the constant gaze of screens and feeds, when ideas could mature in shadow before meeting light. The work itself demanded this quietude, this space to breathe and become.
These pieces map the territory between written word and visual form, between the boy practicing letters and the artist still searching for the perfect line. They are love letters to language, monuments to the muscle memory of writing, and testimonies to the enduring power of putting pen to paper.
