A notebook is a threshold, a space where intuition and structure converge, where thought becomes form before it is fully realized. Is not a finished statement but a continuous unfolding—an ever-expanding terrain where traces of process, repetition, and transformation coexist.

In my practice, the notebook functions as a living document, a repository of gestures, rhythms, and encounters with materiality. It is a site of experimentation, where the layering of time, memory, and mark-making reveal the fluidity of artistic thought. Pages accumulate like sediment, each inscription responding to what came before, never static, always in dialogue.

This archive is not about completion but about movement—how ideas migrate, mutate, and persist. It embraces erasure, revision, and fragmentation as essential elements of creation. Through drawing, annotation, and intervention, the notebook becomes both an internal map and an external record, reflecting the tensions between presence and absence, control and surrender.

It invites us to reconsider what remains unseen in the artistic process. It is a meditation on impermanence, on how an artist’s hand negotiates space and time, leaving behind a field of marks—each one a momentary trace of something in the making.