My process is intuitive and layered, guided less by a fixed plan than by a willingness to discover. Marks accumulate, surfaces shift, and the work begins to speak back to me. Sometimes it’s messy, sometimes it’s graceful, but it always feels alive. That dialogue is a reminder that becoming is never linear—it loops, circles, falters, and surprises. Each painting carries those shifts, holding both the struggle and the resilience that come with staying open to what emerges.

I want my work to tell true stories. Not just the golden moments, but also the struggles and the ordinary days in between. I believe life is made up of all three in equal measure—one-third hardship, one-third daily routine, and one-third fleeting beauty. To honor all of them is to be honest, and honesty is at the heart of my practice. Abstraction allows me to embody this truth rather than illustrate it, creating a language of marks and textures that can hold contradiction, vulnerability, and strength in the same breath.

In the end, painting is my way of taking up space in a world that often asks us to shrink. Each work becomes both declaration and offering: a way of saying I am here, I will not vanish, and I invite you to find your own reflection in that same act of becoming.