Down the Rabbit Hole Wonder-Lens

Attention. Movement. Story. A square of dark chocolate dissolving on the tongue.
The rest is method.

I work at the edge where attention softens—
where the world loosens just enough to reveal what usually goes unseen.

Instructions for living were always simple:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.

This is my practice.

Birds are my constant language—real and symbolic, precise and untranslatable.
They arrive as presence and interruption—
small apertures into something beyond the visible.

I follow them by movement, by silence, by sudden lift—
tracing the threshold where perception becomes imagination.

I move through the world in a wheelchair,
which changes the terms of encounter.

I don’t pass through landscape.
It gathers—
in layers of distance, detail, and pause.

Time slows.
Moments open.

Through drawing, painting, and image-making,
I listen for what flickers beneath the surface— not to document what is seen,
but to translate what is felt.

Psychology, myth, tarot, and metaphor inform the work,
mapping an imaginal terrain that runs alongside the visible world.

But nature keeps interrupting—
clean, uninvited, exact.

A wing crossing light.
A presence that refuses to be named.

The images are not fixed.
They hold slight blur, shift, and alteration—
because perception itself is always moving.

Each piece is an invitation:

to pause,
to notice,
to enter a moment of quiet astonishment.

Not an explanation—
but a place to stand inside your own seeing.