Most of my work exhibits merging dualities. This stems from influences such as illness, culture shock, and identification with ideologically conflicting sides. The dual impact of these events--the combination of fortune and misfortune--motivates my interest in the unity of opposites, and the ways in which they are integrated or interchangeable. Firm ideologies become meaningless, and questioning or just experiencing becomes more valuable. This sentiment propels my artwork, and is also what eventually led me to pursue science.

My involvement in science ultimately caused a personal transformation, which is reflected in my current artwork. During my pursuit of chemistry, moments and events gradually acquired names, and the world turned into a language of formulas. But once something could be named and broken down, it no longer contained its sublime, powerful anonymity. As a result, and despite my continued love of chemistry, I experienced anguish and a need to find other ways to explore the enigmas of life.

Instead of serving as a means of self-expression or communication, art now fulfills the same role that chemistry once did: it is an avenue of inquisition and discovery. Unlike chemistry however, art aims to reveal questions rather than answers. While working, my meticulous mechanical side and my unrestricted intuition function in unison, resulting in a silent, meditative approach to time, technology and the contingencies of life.

My inkspill drawings began as an exploration of chance and order. After randomly spilling some ink on paper, I looked at the shapes and began imagining objects that I associate with science: test tubes, flasks and other laboratory equipment. The randomness of spilled ink, combined with the control of intricate drawing, exemplifies my approach to science, art, or anything else. There is a constant struggle to leave some things to chance. When I returned to this creative method in 2006 (after several years of working mostly within photography), I noticed that with each drawing my test tubes began to look more and more organic--they now resemble veins, branches, intestines, roots and neurons. This shift was not fully realized until Temporal Nexus, in which a central knot ties various organs together. Ultimately this body of work alludes to the confusing mixture of curiosity, fear, awe and mystery that surround the idea of scientific progress. The drawings are at the same time enticing and repulsive; they are detailed and graceful, yet chaotic and unpredictable.