In this new series, I am exploring the use of plastic scraps and leftover materials to depict landscapes, offering a visual commentary on the environmental crisis. At this early stage in my practice, I am still unraveling what these works mean, and in a sense, I can only describe what I see. A recurring element in many of the pieces is a horizon line, which divides the landscape into above and below ground. The use of an acidic yellow-green sky serves as an unsettling marker—something is wrong with the atmosphere. This imagery speaks to a larger issue: the fragility of our environment.

As an abstract expressionist, I embrace the unpredictable nature of the process. I allow the work to define itself, trusting that the message will emerge as I create. There is no clear, predetermined direction in my approach. Instead, the discovery unfolds in real-time, both for me as the artist and for the viewer. These images are telling me about the uninhabitability of our planet—the land, the water, the air. What I see is a world on the brink of destruction, where the beauty around us is coupled with an undeniable sense of impending doom. We cannot continue on this path.

Though I have always been environmentally conscious, this is the first time that these concerns have found such a direct and explicit presence in my artwork. The decision to reuse plastics is a small gesture, but one that aims to subtly draw attention to the larger, more pervasive environmental crisis we face. Plastic is everywhere: in our air, our water, our food, and even in our bodies. Through these materials, I’m attempting to comment on the larger narrative—how we are sick, perhaps unable to change our habits or values enough to alter the course we’re on.

This work is not just about art—it’s about a call to awareness, a reflection of the dire state we are in, and a subtle plea to consider what might happen if we don't make meaningful change.