I don’t make art to be seen.
I gather what has already been overlooked.

Headlines. Scraps.
The corner of a photograph.
The half-sentence in a news article no one paused to feel.

Each piece is a fragment—
a ritual in noticing.

I cut paper like breath,
pair image with ache,
and write not for answers,
but for echo.

This work is not protest,
but presence.
Not spectacle,
but evidence.

An altar made of soft resistance.
A record of how I stayed alive
in the noise.