As an architect, I meticulously create drawings to reveal and describe a building’s design and construction.  In my art studio, I am able to break from all these conventions and push the gravitational and spatial boundaries of these spaces I imagine. 
Through my drawings, I investigate the ambiguity of space. Whether inspired by built form or natural context, my art is constructed by an armature of light.  Light, or what looks like atmosphere or fog, is engaged in either defining space or dematerializing the landscape or architectural elements depicted.  This treatment of light, combined with an unclear relationship of the viewer’s place in relation to the ground plane, creates a spatial disconnect with an ambiguity of depth and motion.  In other words, in some drawings the viewer appears to be floating and is looking both up and down at the same time.
A haunting, almost ghosting, sensation pervades my work.  Atmosphere pervades the drawings; it entwines and tugs at the objects. I feel the objects pushing at each other, pulling at the atmosphere, ready to fly apart, but all held in equilibrium.