I paint portraits of people whose faces or bodies are intentionally wrapped in flowers, to hide their true psychological and emotional selves. My paintings do not depict the outside of a person, but rather what lies within. They often have a big, striking presence, yet at the same time, they are refined and detailed.

My painting technique is unique. I don’t begin with a set plan — I throw paint onto the canvas first. Only after that do I study what shapes I can see in the smears. As an image emerges before my eyes, I spread the paint further with a cloth, pressing it into the pores of the unprimed linen or wood panel. This fast, dynamic, and spontaneous approach — combined with intentionally unpainted areas — makes my work both abstract and realistic.

The people I portray are often those who feel lonely in a chaotic world and have withdrawn. But even they have moments of joy, which they long to share.

For me, composition is the most important aspect of a painting. I experiment until I find the perfect balance between shape, color, and depth. The empty space in a painting is just as important as the forms and figures themselves. Creating compositions is my drive as an artist — it’s my way of creating structure in the chaos of my own life. Every figure I paint carries a special meaning for me, even in the tiniest details. Only by placing them in a strong composition can I give them a place.

Because experimenting with composition takes practice, I’ve created dozens of paintings on the same subject — until I found the ultimate composition and could finally let go of that image. Recurring elements that haunt my mind include the human mout hand eyes. These figures and themes appear repeatedly in my work.