When I paint, everything becomes quiet. Everyday life fades into the background, and I enter a space where emotion and colour speak the same language.

For me, abstract art means freedom. It does not have to explain, depict, or prove anything. It is allowed to simply have an effect, to touch something, and to set something in motion. That is where its power lies for me.

My works often hold two opposites at the same time: light and vulnerability. I believe that true presence does not come from perfection, but from depth, openness, and the courage to allow real emotions to be seen.

My paintings are not meant to simply decorate. They are meant to accompany — in a space, in the eye, and in feeling. Some are quiet, some are more confronting. And sometimes they open something exactly where words become too small.

My father introduced me to art at an early age. Through him, I learned to look more closely. Even though he can no longer see my work today, my paintings are dedicated to him.

I do not paint full-time, but when there is space and time for it. As a result, my works are created in small and highly limited series.

Intuition is an important part of my process. Emotions and moments from everyday life often determine the direction a work takes. The process is rarely straightforward: I build layers, break them open again, condense, reveal, and leave traces behind. In this way, every painting tells its own story and reflects a chapter of my life.

When a work begins to take shape, I open myself fully to the process and allow myself to fall into it. I do not try to control everything. Much of it develops intuitively and in the moment.

I work with a range of high-quality materials — not to create effects for their own sake, but to build depth, movement, and resonance. Many of my works are created on hand-stretched canvases that I build myself, because quality and longevity are an important part of my practice.

During difficult periods, I often experience a very particular intensity. Like many artists, I can enter an almost trance-like state in which painting becomes instinctive. Art becomes an outlet and a language for things that cannot easily be put into words. It is often in these moments that especially individual and distinctive works emerge, because they come directly from feeling rather than from a plan.