I’ve always been an artist. For as long as I can remember, making things felt essential, like breathing. Even after sustaining severe burns on my left hand as a child, I relearned to draw and write with my right. That early shift became a lesson in persistence and adaptation and is one that continues to shape how I approach life. In fact, I never really got to choose art, but I managed to keep at it, even while pursuing other disciplines. Whether I was studying science, psychology, literature, or language, I was always drawing, painting, noticing.

Art became both a grounding and a way to make sense of the many layers of my life. I've lived across countries and languages, and my sense of self has always felt fractured and fluid, something I now explore directly in my work. Even when I was working in other fields or studying other things full-time, drawing remained the thread that held everything together. It was how I kept a "diary" and made sense of the things going on in my head. Over time, that thread became my focus, and I realized that making art wasn’t just something I did, but the only way that I could really feel like myself in the world.