This painting is a theatre of signs - almost like a performance. Like the ones I put up with for some time now. An uproar of shapes, fragments, and riddles, where the fool wanders or sleeps around caught between irony and (a few minutes) desire. Is
Just run. Fast. So you won't even see the fool chasing you / 25x25cm / oil and markers on canvas / 2025
The bed was always shared, though no one ever asked whose it was. Bodies came and went like passing jokes, some stayed longer than others, all equally misplaced. There was always a number, a sign, a script, and still everyone improvised. The red-eyed
Lately, sleep has been strange. A series of images, objects, things, and people appear disjointed yet somehow persistent. Venice dissolving in mist, shifting ----erias (what are they, really? they come cloaked in different skins), pastel de natas mel
Between thesis edits (soon, very soon), I have been going back through my sketchbooks and journals, skimming through pages and sketches, as I now know what I am looking for. Something is stirring for the next solo show in 2026 (already excited!). I a
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