About Me

    I am drawn to moments of vulnerability—when the familiar turns strange, and the ordinary becomes heavy with meaning.    My paintings explore landscapes where the boundaries between memory and reality, past and present, are blurred.     These spaces exist in a state of tension: strength and fragility, growth and decay, resilience and suffocation.    The ambiguity reinforces a lingering unease, as if the viewer is caught between worlds, where time dissolves, and everything feels both intimate and uncertain.  

    Through landscapes as psychological spaces, I investigate how nature mirrors internal struggles.    Dark, damp environments and parasitic growths symbolize vulnerability, anger, and existential dread.     Moss and plants serve as metaphors for these experiences—slowly overtaking and consuming, much like fear and anxiety that quietly spread until they define one’s existence.  

    As someone deeply sensitive to noise and light, I find refuge in quiet, shadowed environments where overwhelming sensations recede.     At the same time, I am drawn to contrast. My grotesque self-portrait—with exaggerated ears, an unnerving smile, and bared teeth—captures this duality.    This tension between joy and unease echoes the landscapes I paint: places that feel alive yet suffocating, beautiful yet unsettling.  

    I do not seek to provide direct answers in my work. Instead, I create spaces for personal projection—where a dark landscape or grotesque portrait invites introspection.     My representational approach, infused with expressive elements, carefully constructs tension.     Plants act as silent witnesses to human presence and absence.     These compositions do not merely depict discomfort; they immerse the viewer in it, making unease something to be felt rather than observed.  

    Anxiety and fear creep slowly, taking root in ways we do not always recognize.     I want my viewers to experience that sensation—not just to see it, but to feel its quiet, inescapable weight.    The darkness in my work is not just visual; it lingers, pressing in on the viewer, creating a moment where they must confront their own emotions.     My goal is not submission to darkness but an intensification of it—so overwhelming that the viewer is forced to step back, to question it, and ultimately, to search for their own path forward.