A practice of receiving life

My work begins long before the paint touches the surface.

It begins in silence, in breath, in the interior space

where the mind softens enough for truth to move freely.

I do not paint from ideas.

I paint from presence —

from the living movement inside.

Some works arrive after deep passages of integration.

Others appear in a single breath.

But the posture is always the same:

I listen.

I receive.

I let life guide the gesture.

For me, painting is not representation.

It is transmission.

A way for the invisible to breathe through matter.

Colour is vibration.

Texture is breath.

Words — visible or hidden — are fragments of revelation

folded into the work.

My paintings are not images to interpret.

They are thresholds into a quieter intelligence:

a space where the viewer can meet their own truth,

not mine.

My practice is an act of coherence —

a way of offering the presence I cultivate

as a field of remembrance.

A return to the axis.

A return to aliveness.

A return to life.