My drawing practice begins with a fascination for line as both a visual trace and a lived experience. I first discovered this through architectural drawings and floor plans as a child, where a single line could define a room, a threshold, or a world. That early interest in structure and space eventually expanded through my studies in dance and performance, where I began to understand drawing not just as a way to represent spaces, but as a way to move through them.

My current work explores the relationship between drawing, embodiment, and atmosphere, and how the act of making a mark can be both a gesture of the hand and a movement of the body. I see drawing as a living practice that bridges the micro and the macro, the intimate rhythm of breath and muscle with the vastness of landscapes, architecture, and shared environments.

Art historian Cornelia H. Butler once wrote that “one of the great discourses of the last century, meandering yet persistent, is that between dance and drawing.” I locate my practice within this lineage of mark-making and movement, influenced by the ephemeral art practices of the 1960s and by ongoing conversations around performance, presence, and the body. My interest in dance notation, experimental scores, and somatic practices continues this exploration, not as documentation of movement, but as movement itself.

Philosopher Tim Ingold’s writing on the “lines” that thread through human experience has deeply influenced my thinking. He describes the world as woven from “a multitude of lines, both intentional and unintentional,” which shape how we perceive and inhabit space. In my practice, these lines become somatic and relational, traces of movement that reveal both personal and collective ways of being.

Recent readings of Donna Haraway and Jane Bennett have expanded this inquiry into an ecological and philosophical terrain. Haraway’s notion of “becoming-with” reminds me that drawing, like living, is never solitary. It is always a process of co-creation. Each mark emerges through a network of relations between hand and surface, air and breath, thought and gravity, artist and participant. In this sense, drawing becomes a practice of attunement, a way of acknowledging interdependence and shared presence.

Similarly, Jane Bennett’s concept of “vibrant matter” invites me to consider the liveliness of the materials themselves. The paper, graphite, and atmosphere are not passive tools but active collaborators with their own agency and rhythm. This awareness shifts my understanding of art-making from an act of control to one of listening, an openness to the vitality of materials and the subtle movements that shape them.

In my installations and participatory works, I invite others to experience drawing as an event rather than an object. These works create environments for sitting, lying down, listening, or moving, spaces that encourage slowness, contemplation, and embodied awareness. Through drawing, sound, and movement, participants are invited to explore alternative modes of being and sensing.

For me, drawing is a way of becoming-with, a practice that honors the vitality of materials, bodies, and spaces. It is both a trace of movement and a movement toward presence, a way of participating in the living, breathing fabric of the world.