Paper cut in glass

A shovel thrust into the hard earth. White stones littering the dirt. Scoop after scoop into an old paint bucket. The weight of the half-filled bucket on the walk to the back fence. Lift up and over. Start again. The physical act of clearing a backyard of pebbles. New homeowners learning not to fill garden beds with tiny, white, smooth, endless stones.

This simple act of domestic labor reflects a larger narrative, mirrored in the reflective and exacting practice of paper cutting. Each surgical cut explores the qualities, detail, and shape of the environment, transforming blank paper into a visual story. Stones emerge from the negative space, 'drawn' with the blade. There is a tension between the pull of metal through paper and the delicate strands left behind - a quiet battle between the act of removal and the fragility of what is left behind.

In a time filled with noise and uncertainty, this dedication to process becomes an act of meditative acceptance. It speaks to the constant pull between what we hold onto and what we let go, a tension that mirrors both our internal lives and the environment we inhabit.