My Journey as an Artist
My journey as an artist has unfolded slowly, shaped by attention rather than urgency. For many years, my work evolved quietly — through observation, experimentation, and learning when to hold back. What mattered most was never arrival, but refinement: allowing ideas to mature, decisions to settle, and the work to find its own weight over time.
What began as curiosity gradually evolved into a desire to create work that felt resolved, intentional, and present. I became increasingly selective — not only about what I introduced into a composition, but about what I chose to remove. Restraint became as important as expression.
There came a point when keeping the work private no longer felt aligned. Sharing it was not about visibility or validation, but about meaning — allowing the work to exist beyond the studio, to take its place within lived spaces, and to be experienced in relationship with light, architecture, and daily life.
You can read more about my background and path here.
As my practice developed, a visual language began to take shape. Movement, rhythm, and a sense of glamour inform my work — not as performance, but as presence. I am drawn to compositions that feel composed yet alive, where structure and softness coexist. Each decision is considered: where the eye rests, where it moves, and where silence is allowed to remain.
At the core of my practice is an interest in femininity as presence rather than display. I am drawn to the tension between softness and strength, refinement and rawness — moments where elegance holds its ground without needing to assert itself. Fashion, form, and material become tools for exploring identity, confidence, and emotional resonance, allowing the work to speak quietly but with conviction.
Gold entered my practice as a quiet but defining choice. Not as embellishment, but as material. It introduces intention and tension — a reflective surface that responds to light, proximity, and time. Used with restraint, gold creates emotional charge without overwhelming the work. It demands patience, precision, and respect for process, becoming integral rather than decorative.

Completion, for me, is not a moment of fullness, but of resolution. A piece is finished when nothing essential can be added, and nothing meaningful can be taken away. Often, the final stage involves removal — softening, refining, or allowing a passage to breathe. This is where the work settles into itself.
You can read more about how each artwork comes together in my creative process here.
Every artwork I release is one I am willing to stand behind fully. It reflects a level of intention, craftsmanship, and restraint that aligns with how I want the work to exist in the world. I do not create to fill space, but to hold it.
For collectors, engaging with my work is not about trend or statement alone. It is about choosing pieces that feel considered, grounded, and enduring — works that continue to reveal themselves over time. My hope is that each artwork becomes part of a larger continuity: a quiet presence within a home, and a lasting relationship between object, environment, and viewer.