I am someone who thinks a lot. Perhaps too much. But it is precisely from this that what I create emerges. My paintings, my writings, my view of the world come from this constant attempt to understand things that in reality cannot be understood.

I often feel as if I am living between the past and the present. Nostalgia accompanies me like a quiet shadow. I think a lot about the past, about people, about times that will never repeat. That makes me sad but also attentive. It allows me to see the world differently, softer, more serious, more honest.

I realize how much I search for authenticity. For moments in which nothing is staged. For people who do not pretend that everything is easy. Perhaps that is why I paint, to capture what cannot otherwise be grasped, a mood, a feeling, a memory that is already fading.

I am sensitive. Easily overwhelmed. And yet curious about what lies out there. Inside me there is always this tension between retreat and departure, between reflection and letting go. Often I feel like an observer, trying to understand life while it is already moving on.

My art is my attempt to organize this inner chaos. Not to find answers but to make the questions visible. I want to show that thoughtfulness is not a weakness, that vulnerability is a form of strength, and that in silence one sometimes learns more about the world than in all the noise out there.