Painting, for me, is an act of listening- listening to the world and listening to the atmosphere. Kind of awareness. My work begins intuitively, often with an open and unpredictable first layer. From there, the painting develops through a continuous dialogue between gesture, material, color, and reflection. Layers are built up, erased, interrupted, and rediscovered. What disappears is never entirely gone; traces remain beneath the surface, carrying the memory of the painting’s own making.
I often paint with both hands simultaneously. This physical way of working creates a rhythm that moves between control and openness, action and response. Gestures of giving and taking, distributing and gathering become part of the process. Rather than imposing a predetermined image, I respond to what emerges on the canvas.
Color is not used symbolically. It develops through relationships—through tension, proximity, contrast, and resonance—and shapes the atmosphere and emotional pressure of each work. My paintings do not illustrate a specific narrative. They are spaces in which visible and hidden elements coexist, where movement can meet stillness and clarity can remain close to uncertainty.
I am interested in what lingers: a gesture, a perception, a memory, a trace. Painting becomes a way of paying attention to these fleeting moments and allowing them to remain unresolved.The finished work is an invitation to the viewer—to look, to sense, and perhaps to discover something that cannot be fully named.
