This one-metre-tall sculpture is assembled from rusted scrap car parts, with natural corrosion creating a range of orange, red, brown, and yellow tones reminiscent of a fox’s coat. Its downward gaze and off-centre stance create a tension between stillness and motion.

(Click image to view)

This sculpture is part of a personal investigation into how natural forms can be built from other natural patterns. The fox — a shape I return to often — provided a structure I could trust, allowing me to focus on how floral elements might define form rather than decorate it. The petal-like shapes are arranged with visual rhythm and balance, but not rigid pattern. By drawing the natural colours of a fox across the surface, the piece becomes unified — not many flowers, but one complete shape. Flower Fox is less about what it represents, and more about what can be built when structure and repetition work together.

(Click image to view)

This sculpture explores a moment of quiet curiosity — the kind that sits somewhere between innocence and unease. A simplified fox figure looks down at a bird beneath its paw, not with malice, but with interest. The limited colour palette and soft drips between tones suggest a quiet merging of ideas — life, death, attention, and stillness — all held in one suspended moment.

(Click image to view)

A continuation of the same quiet exploration, this piece takes a more playful and relaxed approach to the idea of death and curiosity. The fox lies on its back, holding the bird gently with its paws — not grasping, just engaging. The pose suggests comfort, balance, and a kind of softness in how the fox interacts with what it doesn’t fully understand. As with the first piece, the simplified forms and gentle colour drips allow the focus to sit with the feeling, not the detail.

(Click image to view)