My work begins with writing.

It takes the form of short poems or fragments of a novel, weaving together symbols and narrative.

These texts are my own metaphors for the people and the society I have observed. Their length is

not fixed, and they ask something of us. They invite us to step into the role of a protagonist, or to

stand before scenes that do not exist, feeling familiarity and estrangement at once.

I write about the human desire to belong. It is something I have observed, and something I have

lived inside. This desire often surfaces as a fragile, precarious pursuit, a mirage of love and

recognition. It can arise as an instinctive longing born of separation from the maternal body, or as

a more rigid, passive desire shaped by forces beyond the individual. In this context, I trace the

two faces of intimacy:

How affection becomes a language of negotiation,

how comfort conceals vulnerability,

and how a relationship can function as both shelter and surveillance.

Through painting, I construct quiet scenes that attend to the tension between attachment and

autonomy. Thin, layered surfaces linger like marks, faint yet resistant to erasure. Beside them,

sharp forms and symbols are placed as if quietly issuing commands to the figures within the

image. The figures often pause among these commands, holding their response in suspense.

Within these scenes, we encounter the simultaneous desire to be held and to remain wholly

oneself, a state that is beautiful and never quite at rest.