My work returns to the body. The body is not idealised but presented as it is: worn, marked, scarred, and stretched. It is strong, though that strength is not untouched. We hold our bodies in ways that speak without language. Muscles tighten and contort where pressure settles, where the body labours and bears weight. The way the body is held, through posture and strain, begins to reveal what sits beneath the surface. Strength exists alongside fatigue. The surface carries what

My work begins with charcoal. It is my primary tool. The blackness of the material against white or cream surfaces is stark. I think in dark and light, rather than light and dark. Charcoal sits on the borderline between existence and disappearance. It is a remnant of fire and life. When I hold it, I hold the same material my ancestors once used to stay alive, to mark stories, to leave traces of themselves.

Interview with Emma Stryker How has your experience as a disabled artist shaped the way you navigate the art world? As a disabled artist, I see the world differently to others. This sometimes leads to me interacting with the world differently too. It's pushed me to create opportunities for myself (and others) to make art and collaborate. It can be challenging working as a lone artist without anyone to relay and bounce information off. There are opportunities in the art world