I paint to give form to what unfolds unevenly.

My work is shaped by an attentiveness to layers — of thought, feeling, memory, and becoming — that do not arrive all at once. Some elements emerge early and insistently; others take time, arriving quietly, much later. This is not absence or failure, but a different rhythm of development.

Through abstraction, I explore non-linear processes. Each painting is built through layering, pause, and return. Marks are made, softened, partially covered, or left unresolved. What matters is not symmetry or completion, but allowing each part to appear in its own time.

Alongside my painting practice, I work closely with children whose development unfolds unevenly. Through this work, I witness daily how thinking, emotional depth, and maturity do not grow in parallel — how a child may be far ahead in some ways, while still forming in others. This understanding has deeply shaped how I paint.

Many people recognise themselves in this way of working. The paintings offer permission to notice what has long been difficult to name: that it is possible to be deeply developed in some areas, and still becoming in others — and that difference in pace is not something to correct or outgrow.

My work does not ask to be understood quickly. It invites the viewer to stay, to sense, and to reflect on their own patterns of development. In this space, comparison loosens its grip. What emerges is a quieter recognition — of oneself, and of others.

These paintings hold a simple reassurance: it is acceptable not to move at the same pace as those around us. Some things ripen early. Others require time, layering, and silence.

Nothing here is rushed.
Nothing is behind.