My work moves between architecture, art, and jewelry, often beginning with the same questions: how does an object hold weight, create tension, register time, or carry meaning at a smaller scale?

Trained as an architect, I approach each piece through structure, proportion, material, and process. The work is often geometric, but not purely formal. It is shaped by moments of compression, balance, interruption, and transformation — the same forces that define buildings, bodies, and relationships.

The jewelry began with pieces made for my wife, then slowly expanded into a small collection. Each object is produced in limited numbers, with attention to material character, scale, and the slight irregularities that come from making something physical. Gold, silver, concrete, and oxidized metal are treated not only as precious or raw materials, but as carriers of memory, use, and permanence.

The art objects and concrete works follow a similar logic. They explore domestic forms, architectural fragments, and the tension between control and accident. Some pieces are carefully planned; others emerge through casting, failure, repair, or the behavior of the material itself.

Across both jewelry and art, the goal is to make objects that feel deliberate, tactile, and quietly personal — pieces that sit somewhere between artifact, ornament, structure, and sculpture.