I never planned to become an artist.

For years I built a career in another world. Art was always there, but it wasn't the work I thought my life would become.

In 2022 my son, Kyan, died.

Everything that mattered shifted.

I found myself back at the drawing board, not because I was searching for a new career, but because it was the only place where I could find respite. Day after day I came back to art. Somewhere along the way I realised I wasn't just drawing to survive. I had found the work I needed to devote my life to.

I care deeply about craftsmanship. I want someone to recognise the person in front of them immediately. Then I want the drawing to hold them there. Charcoal records every decision. Every hesitation. Every mark that has been rubbed back and drawn again. It asks me to earn the finished work, its sincere.

I'd rather spend weeks chasing something honest than finish another piece that says nothing.

I'm still learning how to make the drawings I'm chasing.

I've found the work of my life.