Journey

My journey as an artist began with a certainty I did not yet know how to protect. At six years old, I told my parents I wanted to become an artist. I began taking classes, drawn instinctively to creation, to expressing something I could not yet name. But life shifted early. With the separation of my parents and the instability that followed, that part of me became quiet.

For a long time, I moved away from art without fully realizing it. Creativity remained present, but in other forms. I explored photography, drawn to capturing fleeting moments, and took classes in painting and drawing along the way. Still, art stayed at a distance, something I loved but did not fully claim.

My path led me into the art world from another direction. I worked as a gallery assistant and registrar, surrounded by artists and their work, holding space for creation without yet believing in my own. At the time, my dream was to one day build a gallery, not to be the artist within it.

It was only after leaving my corporate path that I returned. Not as a decision, but as a necessity. A return to something essential.

Painting became my way back. I found myself drawn to oil, to its weight, its texture, even its scent. My work began to take shape as an exploration of emotion, intimacy, and the complexity of relationships, especially through my experience as a woman and as an immigrant.

I identify with a disorganized attachment style, a way of experiencing connection that is often intense, contradictory, and difficult to articulate. There is both closeness and distance, longing and resistance. Through painting and poetry, I am able to express what I cannot always say, giving form to emotions that would otherwise remain unresolved.

Art, for me, is not separate from life. It is how I understand it.