Attached to my very bones is my international baggage, most of which is carry-on. I was born in Tanzania, raised in Pakistan, and have had a taste of the Far East, Middle East and Europe. Moving to America has been, let's just say, a piece of cake; getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road: not so much.

My work is heavily influenced by travel. Having been rooted, un-rooted and re-rooted from Tanzania, to Lahore, to Dallas, and now San Francisco, I have a constant inherent obsession of tracing every slipping moment. My paintings have remnants of old photographs of people I have known, grown out of, or run into over the years. They are submerged in memory pockets: vast atmospheric spaces, which result after the paper endures a rain or snow storm. The random splatters of precipitation have a strange orderly pattern, and I intervene with my orderly splatters that have a strange randomness. The dichotomy of the two makes an exact visual depiction of what I think memory looks like.