Art & Creative Process

My creative practice is a way of coming back to the body and feeling through the hands and with elements.

It is slow, receptive, and grounded in relationship with materials, with memory, with lineage and with time. I do not approach art as production or output rather as process: a space where grief, ancestry, ritual and presence can take form without needing to be explained.

Making is a way of listening.

To the body, to the land, to what insists on being held rather than resolved.

Process

My work is guided by an animist way of relating to the world, where materials are not inert and gestures carry meaning. Fabrics, clay, pigment, fibers, water, fire… are collaborators rather than tools.

Repetition, patience, and attention are central to my process. The works shared here are traces of encounters with matters, with history, with the unseen.

Indigo, dye, & textile work

Dyeing and textile work are practices of immersion and return. a dialogue with pigment, fiber, water, air, and time.

Textile accompanies us across a lifetime. We are first wrapped in cloth at birth and we are wrapped again at death. Between these moments, fabric carries us, holding the body, marking transitions, absorbing touch, memory, and care.

Through dye and textile processes, I explore cycle of transformation, loss and renewal. How color emerges through oxidation and saturation, how depth is built through layering, how the unseen becomes visible through material change. I engage with fibers shaped by colonial histories such as cotton and silk not as neutral materials, but as carriers of memory, extraction, labor and movement. working with them becomes a way of staying in relationship with history, complexity and responsibility.

Photos by Catharina Lopes

Ceramics

Clay is a material of origin and return.

It comes from the ground, carries water, receives fire, and returns to earth. My ceramic work is shaped by imperfect forms, vernacular structures, utilitarian and ritualistic gestures. I am drawn to vessels that hold, forms that feel uses, touched and inhabited.

These works often become ritual tools and grief vessels. Objects made to hold offerings, ashes, water, or absence. My relationship with clay is informed by indigenous cosmologies an by the presence of clay in Vodoun rituals and practices, where each is alive, responsive, and relational. Clay is not neutral matter, it carries breath, force, memory and agency.

Ceramics appears in altars as containers, supports, thresholds. They help anchor the invisible in form. They hold what needs to be held and remind us that holding is never permanent.

Fire completes the conversation. It transforms, fractures, strengthens ans sometimes breaks.