Artist Statement
My work is captivated by the power of material transformation to elevate the unremarkable into something of perceived value through aesthetic camouflage. This fascination reflects my complex journey between cultures. Born in the United States, raised in Thailand, and now residing here again, I feel tethered to, yet distanced from, my Thai heritage. Shame, displacement, in-betweenness, and longing shape my identity. My seven years working in environmental science, and my mother, who was a professional chef, left a strong impression on me. This act of processing material and how I digest my life experiences is reflecting on distorting the material physically, chemically, and spiritually. Distortion infuses my constructed forms with histories and cultural weight, both that already exist and that are imagined.
My process begins with everyday materials, transforming them into distant Thai craft objects from a future world. Though I have not inherited direct mastery of Thai craft traditions such as goldwork, lacquerwork, mother-of-pearl inlay, woodcarving, or mural painting, I have a strong desire to transmute the rawness of materials into something removed. Poplar and birch from home improvement stores are dyed with aniline to mimic the richness of ornamental weavings. Patinated copper and brass mesh are treated with Thai food ingredients, enamel, and beeswax to become aged textiles or intestinal flora-like forms. Fused plastics become sites for mural-like abstraction. Palettes of red, green, gold, silver, and bronze, drawn from Thai visual culture, become signals of devotion and value. The colors and forms function as speculative artifacts from a future past and offer survival strategies in a world that no longer remembers how to care.
The objects are from a speculative world shaped by ecological collapse, infrastructural inhibition, cultural assimilation, and spiritual disconnection. It is a place where survival depends on ritual, adaptation, and ancestral knowledge. Through sculpture, painting, installations, and wearable works, I explore what it means to sustain ourselves and others in a setting without access to belonging or care. Contamination, residue, and filtration now underpin my visual language. Waste becomes a material of faith, transformed into devotional skins, relics, and protective fragments.
When I die and reincarnate, I hope to leave behind not just objects, but a will to create. That will is meant for the next version of myself, and for others navigating the same in-between. Art becomes a form of spiritual persistence, a way to carry memory even when the body or culture falters.