I’ve been painting since before I could really speak, so for me, art has never been separate from life - it’s how I think, feel, and make sense of everything.

 

When I paint, sculpt, or work digitally, it feels like I’m translating something from the space between memory, dreams, and myth - places I can only reach through colour, texture, movement, and sound.to abstraction, to those spontaneous, ephemeral shapes that feel ancient - like they’ve always been there, waiting.

 

Sometimes they form stories or recognisable figures, like when we see creatures in clouds or constellations in the dark.I don’t try to recreate the past - I want to break it open, reimagine it, and let something unfamiliar and alive grow through.

 

Lately, I’ve started playing my paintings like instruments - what I call Soundpaintings.They’re a way of giving voice to what’s hidden in the work, to let it breathe and vibrate. The textures and strokes become sound, and suddenly the piece isn’t just visual - it’s resonating with something beyond me. Like the artwork itself is trying to speak in its own language, connecting the human and the universe.

 

My work isn’t really about explaining - it’s about feeling. Sometimes it’s messy, raw, surreal. But underneath it all, there’s always a kind of thread, like a silent story that doesn’t need words.

 

I’m looking for that moment when something feels both familiar and unknown - like a part of you you didn’t realise was sleeping, suddenly waking up.