Little Spy was always there. A small, grinning person that slipped into rooms before I did, tucking itself into slide decks and strategy documents, curling up in the corner of meeting rooms. It looked like a joke, or a metaphor, or a doodle in the margin. Really, it was a Trojan horse. In every environment I entered, little spy sprinkled in creativity, aliveness, connection where so little of it is naturally present. Sometimes it was great fun when it showed up, smuggling in sprinkles and being greeted by people with arms wide open. Then it went hiding again. Was it being too bold to try to make a change? Little spy survived long enough to become big spy – bold and open, laying off the trench coat and letting what was underneath be seen. My work lives where words, wire, and rhythm meet. I make visual–spatial sculptures that transcend inner worlds into 3D and condensed stories that from visual scores on paper and into your ears. All trace the spy’s journey from the margins of business documents into the centre of the page. All pieces are inter‑connected, part of one organism, each mapping one moment in a journey that never finishes, never concludes, but stays open to what comes next. They mark a journey from being to performance to presence – small structures showing what happens when the little spy stays in the room and lets itself be seen. Now that the trench coat is off, poems and wire sculptures and sound and rhythm have reached the light of day. I can say: the sculptures and the poems and ALIVE! were always me – a right‑hemisphere, feeling‑map, sense‑making part that only came out of the woods when it felt safe. OctoArt is what happened when little spy stopped hiding. Now that I feel safe, it has taken over and put me where I belong, in a studio in Napier, Aotearoa, letting my hands and mind do what they were always doing underneath - Can't                       Control                                ALIVE!