Sometimes art meets me where no one expects it. In a glance that lasts longer than necessary. In a gesture that reveals something left unspoken. In what unfolds within a person and, for a moment, becomes visible.
I find it in the fine cracks of a wall, in lines that arise by chance yet suggest an order. In the muted colors of weathered façades, in the traces left by wind, rain, and sunlight. In withered plants whose forms carry a quiet persistence.
I paint to follow these traces. To see what has moved people, where their ideas take root, where their intellectual heights lie. To discover what expresses itself through them – and what appears in nature that is sensual yet carries a higher aspect.
Art is not confined to galleries or canvases. It exists in the raw state of the world – in fragments, in imprints, in transitions. Perhaps I paint to give these moments a form in which they can continue to resonate.