Working with earth is an intensely physical and sensory experience: it involves touch, smell and the direct contact of the body with a material that can be handled without chemical barriers. The process is inherently reversible – things can be made, undone and made again, without producing waste in the conventional sense.

This physical engagement gives the process a meditative quality. Attention shifts from looking alone towards sensing: the texture and resistance of the material, its smell, moisture, weight and changing consistency become part of the work. Making becomes a form of sustained, tactile attention.

Earth also allows the practical gestures surrounding art-making to remain part of this relationship with the material. Tools can be washed without acrylic paint or synthetic residues entering the water; scraps can return to the earth rather than becoming permanent waste. The material can be shaped, broken down and returned to the process.

For me, working with earth therefore means not only making images or objects, but entering into a different rhythm of making – one based on contact, repetition, transformation and return.

The works move between abstraction and figuration. Some suggest geological strata, roots or subterranean networks; others evoke bodies, organisms or ambiguous presences.

This body of work is part of an ongoing investigation into the creative potential of earth.