Found materials, modified motorcycle windshield, plexiglass, metal, driftwood, LED light
23 × 18 × 5 inches
Discarded motorcycle windshield forming a curved shell, enclosing an interior assembly with light.
Found materials, driftwood, aluminum wire, LED light
25.5 × 19.5 × 4 inches
Truck grille as frontal barrier and frame, enclosing an interior assembly of salvaged materials and light.
Antechambers, I–III is a series of suspended paper forms shaped around wire armatures. Each pod occupies a state of provisional enclosure, neither fully protective nor fully exposed. Hung in space, the forms suggest interiors without assigned function, structures built for passage rather than permanence.
The work considers the antechamber as a condition rather than a location. A place of pause, preparation, and uncertainty. The paper skin holds traces of touch, tension, and collapse, emphasizing fragility as an active state. Together, the pods operate as thresholds, as sites where we might arrive, hesitate, or dissolve before becoming something else.
In a private collection, The Withstood captures the suspended moment after force has been applied but before a break occurs. A clay form caught in the grip of a mechanical vice, it speaks to the tension between vulnerability and resilience. This piece explores endurance not as triumph, but as a quiet act of survival—of holding shape when change feels inevitable.
A fragmented head hovers mid-thought—its cranium lifted skyward, as if by unseen force, exposing a hollow interior that refuses to resolve into clarity.
Echoes captures the suspended moment between awareness and erasure, between what was and what might have been.
Rooted in the tension between vulnerability and structure, the head rests atop a cold steel plate, supported by an intricate wooden base that suggests both burden and foundation. The sculpture hints at memory’s fragility and the recursive nature of identity: what echoes within us when the self is cracked open?
A procession of faces—cast, cracked, repeated—hangs in uneasy balance. Suspended from a rusted hitch, these fragments drift between individual and collective memory.
Each face resists likeness, yet together they suggest a chorus of the nearly forgotten: tethered selves, held by time, loss, or lineage. Clay here becomes memory’s residue—what’s left after presence departs.
Trace does not ask who these figures are, but rather—what holds them. Trace is not a series of portraits, it is a persistence. What remains, when names do not.
A fragmented lower body bursts from an industrial casing, caught between resistance and release. Sirena explores the tension between the organic and the mechanical, evoking a struggle for emergence amid confinement. It reflects the fractured state of becoming in a world that often crushes transformation.
The overall gesture is one of motion arrested, caught mid-transformation or struggle. With its stark juxtaposition of material and symbolism, the piece interrogates themes of bodily autonomy, dehumanization, and the raw force of becoming.
La Narrara presents a dual-faced plaster head—one half etched with age, the other smooth with youth—anchored within a circular industrial base that resembles a mechanical compass or crosshairs. The juxtaposition of a serene, timeworn visage against its youthful counterpart evokes a dialogue between past and present selves, memory and becoming. The industrial ring, repurposed as a base, reinforces themes of containment, rotation, and surveillance—perhaps even fate. Scepanovic’s choice of plaster, with its delicate fractures and ghostly whiteness, lends the work a vulnerable timelessness, as if both faces are being preserved and erased at once.
Birch bark, steel, metal wire, bisque ceramic, graphite, detritus | 2026
A small human-like figure rests within a swirl of birch bark and metal elements, its graphite-darkened face marked by claw-like protrusions. Surrounding detritus evokes transformation and decay, while the composition highlights the tension between interior and exterior, body and structure, organism and mechanism.
Index of the Feminine balances on the fault line between wild instinct and internalized memory. On one side of a weathered vintage scale sits a blackened coyote skull—feral, silenced. Opposite it, a sculpted petite female torso emerges: darkened, partially abstracted, held mid-motion. The scale, no longer calibrated to measure weight, becomes a relic for something less tangible—identity, instinct, femininity, absence.
This piece draws from natural history and personal mythology, evoking museum vitrines, forensic displays, and devotional altars.
Index of the Feminine resists fixed interpretation, inviting instead a kind of speculative archaeology: what does it mean to archive a body? To weigh a life? To remember what we were before we were named?
Two fragile faces hover in counter-poise, suspended from a bowed steel arc anchored to a vertical piston — a pivot between what holds and what lets go.
This upright industrial relic becomes a surrogate spine — a site of tension, of weight distributed but never resolved. The tilt suggests neither harmony nor rupture, but something quieter: the soft ache of balancing selves that cannot fully meet.
In its stillness, Hinge of Selves evokes motion. In its fracture, a search for continuity. The sculpture sketches a portrait of identity as something not fixed, but forever tipping, suspended, becoming
Like watchful figures caught between realms, Sentinels stands as a silent testament to time, loss, and resilience. A warped cross-section of an old maple tree—scarred, split, and bearing the weight of age—forms a shield-like presence, an artifact of endurance.
Suspended from it by delicate red tethers, six fragmented clay faces hover in limbo, evoking ancestral echoes, forgotten voices, and the fragility of memory.
Sentinels explore the themes of protection and displacement, questioning the boundaries between presence and absence, history and erosion, wholeness and fracture. The red tether, both binding and restraining, weaves a narrative of connection across time—a fragile lifeline, resisting disappearance.
Sentinels invites viewers to stand in stillness, to listen to what is no longer spoken, and to reckon with the weight of what remains.
In Archive, an aged female face surfaces in fragments from the worn contours of driftwood—her features not simply placed upon the wood but becoming it. The lines between skin and bark blur; she is eroding into the material or perhaps rising from it. Her mouth hangs open, the jaw unnaturally unhinged—caught between a scream and a fit of laughter, impossible to name.
Split down the middle, the face is both broken and becoming, as though memory itself cracked and settled into place. The driftwood, like fossilized time, cradles what’s left—suggesting not a narrative but an impression, a residue.
Archive is a meditation on dissolution and persistence. It speaks to the ways bodies remember, deform, and transform—how identity, like matter, breaks apart and recombines into something strangely whole.
Four abstracted female forms stand back to back, carved from a single block of wood, their curves echoing the rhythm of breath and movement.
Though they face away from one another, their closeness implies a shared origin—or perhaps a shared burden.
Placed atop a salvaged foundry mold, the figures appear poised to step off, to begin a dance or a departure. Yet the base is directional, almost track-like—suggesting not just freedom, but trajectory.
The Fourfold explores the tension between agency and structure, individuality and collective identity. It is a sculpture of subtle motion, one that invites questions about where we’re allowed to go, and what must carry us there.
A fragment of form caught in the cold bite of steel, suspended between surrender and resistance. "Seized" captures a moment where pressure becomes both a force of restraint and a catalyst for transformation.
Steel, brass, copper rivets | 2026
A suspended alignment of form and interruption, Eclipse Mechanism brings circular voids into tension with a rigid, imposed grid. The steel structure explores orbit and continuity, while the brass plane intervenes, measuring, containing, or momentarily obscuring. Hand-set copper rivets act as points of connection and insistence, holding disparate systems in uneasy balance. The work considers what happens when natural cycles encounter structures that seek to order them.
A brass intrusion interrupts form, held in tension between force and restraint. The brass element does not resolve the structure but destabilizes it, marking a point of entry without closure. The introduced fracture resists narrative, existing as both consequence and condition.
The work operates in a narrow interval between penetration and suspension, where material becomes record rather than form.
A figure held in suspension, neither seated nor fully upright, The Sitter occupies a state of quiet negotiation with gravity. Its form folds inward, as if thought has weight, as if the act of holding oneself together requires effort that accumulates over time.
Perched on a steel pin, the body is both anchored and exposed. There is no ground beneath it, only a point of contact, precise and unforgiving. The base offers structure but no comfort. It stabilizes without resolving.
The clay carries the memory of pressure, of hands compressing and releasing, of decisions made mid-gesture and left intact. The surface does not smooth itself into clarity. It resists completion.
Derived from a transient alignment observed in early afternoon light, Spear Shadow fixes a shadow into structure.
Two stone forms register a moment of near-contact, held just before convergence. A vertical axis interrupts and sustains the relation, translating a fleeting cast into a stable condition.
What appears decisive is, in origin, incidental.
Within the Between Orbits series, the work occupies the interval where bodies approach alignment without resolving,
where a passing configuration is arrested and made to persist.