"I think from a young age, I was taught to distrust my own pulse, to quiet the voice that trembled beneath my skin. Growing up as a rhythmic gymnast, I learned that discipline was louder than desire, and silence was stronger than sound. We were moulded into perfect soldiers, bodies forged into symmetry, capable of the impossible, yet forbidden to feel. Perfection was a cage gilded with applause."
"When I started dance, I was told to abandon that past, to shed those years of control and conditioning, as if they were wounds best forgotten. But I never understood that. My body remembered; it spoke a language too precise to be erased. And so, dance became not a rebellion, but a reclamation. A return to myself."
"Moving to London opened up a whole new world for me. It made me realise I didn’t have to fit in. I didn’t have to stay as this perfect vessel with the sole purpose of pleasing others. That perfection was not a goal but a ghost. For the first time, I wanted to be imperfect, to let my art breathe, bleed, and break. To let every version of myself coexist: the child, the soldier, the dreamer, the fallen. Nothing left behind, nothing left untouched."
"My movement is a living organism; constantly mutating, defying explanation. It feeds on imperfection. I love to take risks, to fall, to test the edges of what my body and mind can bear. Falling has become both my metaphor and my method. Every descent has carved me into who I am. I am eternally grateful for all the pain I’ve experienced. Now I see that suffering was a teacher, showing me how to rise through the cracks."
"I have a story to tell, a body that remembers, a mind that escapes through motion. I have an outlet that became my escape; from the place that broke me, from the voices that silenced me, from the war inside my head. There are no limits to art. Art is the artist and the artist, art. We all carry ghosts we wish to bury, but I believe in digging deeper. Channelling it into whatever outlet we have, to keep going, pushing boundaries, taking control of our lives and letting go. In feeling until there’s nothing left to feel. In transforming the ache into something luminous. To fall and fall again, until falling itself becomes flight."
