The Hugging Machine is a deeply personal exploration of loneliness, artificial intimacy, and the longing for touch. The series began with a memory from my childhood, constructing a hugging machine from pillows and yellow marigold gloves to comfort myself in the absence of human contact.That early act became the foundation for a body of work that investigates skin hunger- the psychological and physical effects of touch deprivation. In these paintings, human figures engage with fabricated, machine-like forms that offer the illusion of comfort, but fall short of real connection. The series is a meditation on artificial intimacy, the ways we soothe ourselves in isolation, and a reimagining of how care and closeness might be approached when physical connection is absent.

The works are intimate, intrusive, and quietly uncanny. They ask what happens when we attempt to manufacture closeness, and how we navigate emotional distance in an increasingly disconnected world. Yet beneath the tension, I hope the work also carries a sense of tenderness, a quiet hopefulness that comfort can still be found, even in unconventional forms.

The marigold gloves remain a recurring symbol in my practice: sterile, mediated, and slightly absurd, an echo of touch rather than the real thing. In contrast, hands appear as central figures in my mirror series. Where gloves represent separation, hands are our first and most immediate tool of connection. We reach before we speak; we touch before we fully understand. In this way, hands become a metaphor for the desire to grasp, to hold, to know, and ultimately, to be known.