My painting starts where things begin to fail. 

Each work, a small disaster in slow motion. A depiction of the moment when something that seemed stable starts to give way, capturing fragments of collapse. The canvas becomes a place where structures don’t hold, forms hesitate between appearing and disappearing. Tension is held as line, stain and pigments push against each other.

Cities crumble and we don’t know if they are memories or premonitions. Bodies fragment into symbols that I don’t try to decode. I’m not looking for answers; I don’t want to impose a fixed meaning.

The paintings behave like a body under pressure, where control and chaos collide until something raw, almost uncomfortable, appears. When everything collapses, what remains are these images: imperfect, unstable, but still insisting on being here.