Germination begins with a seed—small, closed in on itself, and easy to overlook. At first, it appears still, almost lifeless, yet it carries an enormous potential inside. These sculptures reflect the quiet, unseen work of transformation that occurs underground, where growth takes place in darkness long before anything emerges to the surface. It is a moment of becoming—of gathering energy, building pressure, and finding the strength to break open a shell that once offered protection but now must be left behind.

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I’m drawn to this process because of the intelligence that lives within growth itself. As I weave, the structure starts to feel less like a pattern and more like a living system. The strands respond to one another, much like cells that organize and adapt as they grow. Weaving depends on repetition, tension, and mutual support—each thread holds its place only because of the others. Through this process, weaving becomes a way of listening. It allows me to slow down, tune in, and reconnect with the rhythms and relationships that shape the natural world. 

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The works also gesture toward the Tree of Life archetype—a symbol of continuity, cycles, and connection. Roots reach downward into the earth while shoots extend upward toward the sky, binding the earthly and the celestial into a single living system. In this sense, Germination series reflect not only botanical growth, but an inner process as well: the unfolding of life through time, the passage from potential to form, and the ongoing dialogue between what is hidden and what is revealed.