If there’s one truth I keep coming back to, it’s that chaos always seems to precede something meaningful. I used to see the stress, the financial pressure, the overwhelm — all of it — as signs that I was failing. That I was doing something wrong. But lately, I’ve started to shift how I look at it. What if those moments of collapse are actually thresholds? What if the breakdown is just the space being cleared for something new?
That’s how USE was born. That’s how so many of my best pieces have come to life — in the aftermath of feeling like I couldn’t go any further. Somewhere between the anxiety and the grind, there’s a spark. A pressure that pushes you to look deeper, feel more, and find new ways to express what words can’t.
Sculpting has become a way for me to hold space for that. When I pick up a raw piece of stone, it’s never perfect. It’s rough. Uneven. Flawed. But that’s where the story begins. The process of shaping it, breaking it down, working with what’s there — that mirrors the internal process I go through when life feels too heavy. Creation is how I make sense of the chaos.
I see the same thing in my workshops. People come in carrying their own heaviness — stress, grief, burnout, all of it. And they sit down, start working with their hands, and something starts to shift. Maybe it’s the rhythm. Maybe it’s the focus. Maybe it’s just the fact that no one’s asking them to explain themselves. But by the end, they’ve created something they didn’t know they could. And often, they walk away a little lighter.
That’s what From Chaos to Creation means to me. It’s not just a catchy phrase — it’s a lived experience. It’s a reminder that the mess doesn’t mean it’s over. Sometimes, it means something’s about to begin.
