I am a 25-year-old artist based in London, and my work is a map of the rhythms that once kept me steady and now define my voice. My practice is rooted in the grit of West London’s skateboarding culture—a world built on the quiet persistence of falling down, getting back up, and hitting the same patch of concrete until you and the ground finally understand each other. This physical endurance moved to the page during the long stillness of the pandemic; back then, drawing was a ritual I leaned on to navigate the quiet, a way to externalize everything I couldn't find the words for. Influenced by the raw, distorted honesty of Nirvana and the vast, atmospheric echoes of Pink Floyd, I build my monochrome sketches through a dense layering of lines that fracture and blur. While those early days of repetition were about finding my footing, they eventually led me to the visual language I hold today—an exploration of archetypes and cyclical narratives informed by my background in Classical Studies. I’m no longer looking for answers or a polished finish; I’m interested in the tension of the mark-making itself. My work is an invitation to sit within that distortion and find the strange, quiet beauty that emerges when you show up to the page, over and over again, until the image finally reveals itself.