What Drives My Work

Painting, for me, begins with a shift in atmosphere—a change in light, a sense of movement in the air, something just beneath the surface that’s felt more than seen. I’m drawn to those in-between moments. The ones that don’t hold still. The ones that are impossible to define, but impossible to ignore.

I don’t approach a painting with a fixed image in mind. Instead, I begin with instinct—gesture, color, energy. The first marks are often loose, almost searching. From there, the painting builds in layers. Some are intentional. Others arrive unexpectedly. Each layer changes what comes next.

I’m not trying to capture a specific place or scene. What interests me is the feeling of being in it—the tension before a storm, the stillness after, the weight of heat in the air, the quiet movement of something shifting. These are the moments that stay with me, and they find their way into the work.

Over time, areas are built up, broken down, reworked. What remains is not a single moment, but many—held together in one space. That is where the painting begins to resolve.

I work across painting, collage, and mixed media, but the thread is always the same: an exploration of movement, atmosphere, and emotional light. Each piece is part of a larger conversation, even when it stands on its own.

I think of my work as a way of translating what can’t quite be articulated.