My Body of Work is an act of return to the childhood of the treehouses I climbed, built, and hid inside and to the nostalgia of a memory loved because it is incomplete. Through cardboard etching and linocut printmaking, I revisited that childhood not as fact but as feeling, the thrill of height and the safety of a space made entirely your own. Nets, ladders, and rope recur throughout as the physical language of that childhood, things gripped, knotted, and climbed, carrying the same nostalgic charge as an afternoon spent building something out of nothing. Marks are layered, carved, scratched, pressed, and knotted, accumulating the way memory does which is softened, overlapping, more feeling than fact. Across the series the treehouse is never resolved into a single image, like childhood itself, it is remade with every act of remembering, drifting from a physical structure to a psychological sanctuary, shaped by curiosity, independence, and the quiet ache of looking back.