Date
December 2, 2025

I began making these works as a way to stay close to the everyday. Small observations—light on a wall, a street at dusk, a pause between conversation—became starting points for paintings that are less about description and more about feeling. My practice grows through noticing how environments settle into the body as memory, and how they quietly shape the way we move through the world.
Moving between cities and contexts has changed the way I look. Each place carries its own rhythm, its own emotional temperature. I am interested in how that rhythm becomes internal: how streets, rooms, weather, and distance can form psychological landscapes. Rather than illustrating a specific story, I try to create spaces where mood and attention guide meaning, and where the viewer is allowed to feel before they understand.
In my recent work, I return to stillness as a form of motion. I think of quiet as something active—an energy held rather than absent. The paintings attempt to hold that fragile interval where time feels suspended but alive, like the moment before something begins or after something ends.
Color and structure become tools for building inner spaces. I rely on layered surfaces and soft transitions to reflect how feelings shift—slowly, often invisibly. The goal is not clarity, but resonance: a place for viewers to enter with their own memory, and to recognize something personal in what remains undefined.