I come from grit, from hunger, from stories half-told aching to be finished.. Crafting in the quiet, but  speaking loudly..through gesture, through breath, through the weight of a moment held too long. 
A rebel at heart, I don't make to soothe.. I make to stir. To lead without permission. To love without apology.  My art lives where affection meets defiance..where emotion is not tamed, but tended.
I believe in yearning as a map, in softness as survival, and in art as a rebellion that never stops burning.. 

Cat.