Perforated metal isn't a medium we see every day. What's the story there? How did you decide this was how you wanted to realise your work? 

While studying Textiles in Practice at uni, I experimented with mark-making by piercing paper with pins and illuminating the designs with light. After graduating, I was commissioned to create a large-scale piece for a festival in Croatia. Knowing paper wouldn't work outdoors, I decided to adapt my methods to metal. With minimal testing and some overconfidence, I proposed a four meter aluminium piece with intricate hand-punched holes which would be backlit. When I arrived, none of the tools or materials I'd shipped had shown up. I had to improvise with scrap aluminium from a nearby field, two bradawls, a mallet, and a drill. I perforated each panel and patched them together—and to my surprise, it turned out great. The salvaged aluminium was thinner than the sheets I planned to use, making it easier to perforate and creating bubble-like forms with a fluid quality. That moment defined my practice, and I've been using and developed this method ever since.

Your forms seem to flow incredibly naturally. What are the main inspirations behind your work?

I'm very process-led. Forms emerge from an almost automatic action, influenced by natural patterns that guide each mark and perforation. Time, focus, and precision transform individual marks into a unified piece, balancing thoughtful composition with a free-flowing, meditative execution.

You don't just use a hammer and bradawl to create your work. I can see a few pieces have been created with pyrography and a few with white pens on coloured paper. What dictates the tools you use for a specific piece?

Carving, burning, perforating, embossing—I love the permanence of these methods. I sometimes use a pyrography tool to burn lines into wood panels, and I enjoy the process because once a mark is made, it's final. You just have to keep going, even if I regret the last mark. Plus, I love the smell of the wood burning. It's the same with drawing white ink directly onto coloured paper or perforating metal—there's no going back. That sense of finality is something I'm really drawn to when choosing my tools and materials.