Nade’s work walks the uneasy line between beauty and collapse. There’s energy in it, but it’s not neat energy — it spills, it fragments, it leaves edges exposed. Her practice draws from the overlooked corners: tangled hedgerows, scrappy wildflowers, the quiet decay creeping beneath everyday life. She works fast and loose, but it’s not careless. Every splintered ink line, every torn paper edge, is part of a deeper enquiry.