In the early 1990s, I took a lantern-making class at the Japanese Cultural Center. It was a simple introduction, but it sparked an idea—a way to stretch the small kernel of knowledge I had just gained into something uniquely my own. After the class, I bought several sheets of Japanese mulberry paper and went back to my studio where I began to explore what might evolve. I had a bundle of dried willow branches, a socket with a long cord, and some driftwood gathered from a beach walk along the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

As I began working, I found myself captivated by the challenge of creating a self-standing structure from the delicate, curving willow. It became a dance of balance, structure, and line—a composition in space.

Each piece begins as an act of listening and sensing the volume in space — then allowing the materials to guide me. The interplay of paper, willow, and light creates a shifting landscape of shadow and warmth, structure and softness. What emerges is both sculpture and illumination: an invitation to see the poetry of balance made visible.

Paper has long fascinated me. From folding origami as a child to observing how wind and rain press paper into the tall grasses after a storm, I’ve been drawn to its ability to transform. I remember finding paper clinging to reeds and stems after a storm, reshaped by nature into something entirely new—part of the landscape rather than separate from it. That image stays with me, and I strive to capture that quality in my work: wet paper clinging to a frame, sometimes in fragments, sometimes in taut, overlapping layers.

Along the way, I became intrigued by the weaver bird—a small creature that uses grasses to construct intricate nests to attract a mate. Watching its methodical poking and weaving inspired me to experiment with wood lath, creating my own woven tangles. Add to that the influence of the structures of Buckminster Fuller, I learned that each lashing at the crossings of the lath not only adds structural integrity but also opens new possibilities for paper placement.

Through my pieces, I hope viewers feel the quiet dialogue between nature and form—how light can reveal both the strength and the tenderness within simple materials. Each piece is a small meditation on balance, impermanence, and wonder.