Poetry

Poetry has been with me for as long as I can remember. It began in childhood, as a way to make sense of the world, and has remained a steady companion. I write because I love words—their rhythm, their precision, their power to hold both emotion and insight. I read poetry for the same reasons: it distills life to its essence and speaks directly to the heart.

Partnered with painting, poetry gives me a second language. What I can’t say with color, line, and movement, I express with words. The two practices weave together, one informing the other. Sometimes, a poem becomes a painting. Other times, the reverse is true.

Over time, I’ve found myself drawn to a hybrid form I call the Story Poem—not quite poetry, not quite prose, but something in between. These pieces sketch scenes from life, capturing a moment, a feeling, a fragment of a story, in a poetic frame.

Writing has also been a way for me to document and reflect. Without siblings or cousins, my journals and poems have become a kind of family archive—a personal record of what I’ve moved through, witnessed, and felt.