This painting didn’t start with a plan. It began as a small play, a quiet game with a few colors - violets, pinks, burgundies, and a...

When I first touched the canvas, there was no plan - only a sensation. A softness, a breath, something gentle and distinctly feminine. I...

This painting began with a lump in my throat. Not a metaphorical one - a real, physical sensation. It felt like something had lodged...

On painting grief, stillness, and the quiet passing of time Some paintings wait. They begin not with an idea, but with a feeling — a...