My paintings are emotions that have found expression.

Sometimes wild, loud, and full of contrasts; sometimes quiet, delicate, and almost transparent. They emerge layer by layer – like a life that has been lived.

There are memories – painted over, transformed, visible and hidden all at once. The colors tell real stories you don’t need to know in order to feel. Like a song that touches your soul, even if you don’t understand the lyrics.

Perhaps it was this very longing – for truth, for depth, for something you can feel – that made me let go in 2015. Not out of lack, but because I heard my inner calling. I said goodbye to my apartment, my belongings, my stable income. At a garage sale, I traded things for lightness.

Since then, I’ve been living with my husband in 28 square meters. A small space, lovingly shaped by little things that carry their own stories. This space gives me clarity – and a vastness for my creative expression.

A vastness I live out as an artist, a traveler, a seeker – full of contrasts, on the canvas and in life.

That’s why I spend my winters in Spain. The light there is different, the voices more vibrant, the pace softer. It stirs something inside me. And sometimes, it stirs doubts.

“Am I really allowed to do this? To live differently?”

The fear is loud. But the brave curiosity is more persistent.

When I paint, I hear these voices most clearly. Then questions become color, restlessness becomes rhythm.

And inner struggle becomes a painting that speaks of trust.

In that sense, my art is my echo. It speaks a language deeper than words. I believe color reveals something we’ve always known – but may have forgotten.