2025

Material Philosophy, for me, begins with the understanding that material is not inert. It carries presence. Silk, fibre, pigment, earth—these are not passive substances waiting to be shaped, but living elements that hold memory, tension, history, and intelligence within them. The more time I spend working closely with material, the more I feel that it exists within a larger structure of interconnection: a literal weaving of fibres, but also a metaphorical weaving of relationships, energies, and time.

This understanding has gradually changed the way I approach making. I no longer see material as something to possess or control completely. Instead, I’ve become more interested in how to work in alignment with its nature—observing how it behaves, where it resists, where it yields, and what it reveals through process.

Before I begin working with silk, I offer it back to nature. This gesture has become an essential part of my practice. It is less ritual in a performative sense, and more an act of recognition. Acknowledging that the material does not begin with me, and was never truly mine to claim. The silk already belongs to a wider natural system—formed through living processes, shaped by time, environment, and care long before it reaches my hands.

In offering the material first, I am setting an intention, but also creating space to listen. It is a way of asking permission to work with nature’s fabric rather than simply imposing onto it. Through this, the process becomes more reciprocal. I move forward with greater awareness of how the material wishes to be handled, layered, tensioned, or left unresolved.

What continues to stay with me is the sense that material remembers. It absorbs touch, pressure, pigment, atmosphere. It carries traces of every interaction. To work with it responsibly requires attentiveness—not only to appearance, but to presence.