There are moments when a painting emerges not from a clear narrative, but from a quiet emotional weight you can’t yet name.  Planetless  was born from that kind of silence, a desire to paint the stillness that comes when disconnection stops being temporary and becomes a way of existing. With Planetless, I wanted to explore the unsettling stillness that arises when disconnection becomes a state of being, not just a moment of solitude, but an almost existential sense of not belonging. The figure, isolated and adrift, wears a sealed suit; its mouth is covered, its voice muted. In this world, language is useless. There is no longer a need for explanation, only a quiet resignation. Planetless The imagery reflects a kind of modern detachment, where technology, society, or even our own personal experience can create distances so vast that we drift through our lives like visitors, disconnected not only from others, but from ourselves. The sealed mouth suggests that even the act ...

 There are paintings that emerge slowly, from a quiet space inside. Introspection is one of those. It’s a piece now available in my gallery, born from a silent, universal moment: that inner pause when we confront who we are, not as seen through others, but within the privacy of our own gaze. This oil painting is part of my series of symbolic figurative works, where surreal elements, emotion, and narrative converge to reflect the complexity of being.             Introspection The composition features a masked figure standing before an oversized mask; a deconstructed, cardboard-like structure that feels both physical and dreamlike. One might even speculate that the viewer, too, is part of this procession of masked figures observing one another.  The mask serves not only as an object but as a vessel for inner reflection, symbolizing the layers we construct to protect, define, and sometimes conceal our identity. Through visual storytelling, I attempt...

  When I began creating Becoming Thorn , I was deeply connected to a feeling that I believe many women come to know as the years pass. For much of our lives, natural beauty, the simple rituals of self-care: fixing our hair, applying makeup, choosing the right dress, often serve as a soft kind of armor. They accompany us, give us confidence, help us move through different moments and stages, even the more difficult ones. Becoming thorn But there comes a time when we become fully aware that these resources begin to fade. The tools that once seemed so natural are no longer as readily available, and the reflection in the mirror begins to speak of a different season. That transition, that crossing of a threshold,  is at the heart of Becoming Thorn . In the image, the female figure stands partially submerged at the edge of the sea. From her back, thorns begin to emerge. They symbolize a new kind of defense: when vulnerability is no longer a shelter and one must build different kinds...

                 I’ve always had a natural instinct for communication. Perhaps it was the long hours spent reading during my early years, or my mother’s constant emphasis on literature and poetry, I’m not entirely sure. But what I do know is that my instinct has always been to connect, to express, to reach out. Art, too, has always been an innate part of me. I’ve never been able to see life quite like everyone else, perhaps that’s the essence of an artist's mind: perceiving the world through a peculiar, deeply personal lens. And it is this blend of instincts, to communicate and to create, that drives me to reach out to you. The artist's mind perceives the world through a peculiar, deeply personal lens. When I seek connection through my paintings, I’m searching for that spark, that fragile yet powerful thread of empathy that links two people through a shared moment of recognition. It might happen through a gesture, a glance, a particular light...