Where it began
I’ve always been someone who needed to create.
As a child I would watch art shows on television, find craft tutorials in children’s newspapers, and try to recreate them immediately. I was so insistent on it that I joined art school on my own initiative while still in kindergarten. Eventually the structured environment stopped feeling right — there were techniques to follow, rules to learn, and a prescribed way of making art, whereas I wanted to paint what I felt, not what I was told to paint. So I stopped going.
For a while art disappeared from my life as academic pressure took over. Then, in late 2018, I found my way back to it. With no formal training, I taught myself through YouTube tutorials, starting with oil pastels and pencils before exploring soft pastels, other mediums and techniques, and eventually discovering acrylics. Something clicked.
By 2020, art had become far more than a hobby. I began accepting commissions, initially at very modest prices, while constantly pushing myself to improve. I went on to start a small art business and take part in art markets, all while still only 18 years old. What began as experimentation has gradually become a visual language of my own — finer, more intentional, and increasingly personal every year.
The practice
Art and science
My work exists at the intersection of observation and imagination — rooted in realism, yet constantly evolving through contemporary art, textured pieces, semi-abstract forms, colour and experimentation.
Being an artist and a biologist may seem like two very different paths, but for me they are deeply connected. Zoology taught me to observe — to notice patterns, details, behaviour, relationships, and the world beyond the obvious. Art lets me translate that curiosity into something emotional and visual.
Why I create
What matters most to me is the connection between a work and the person looking at it. I love hearing what someone sees in a painting that I may never have consciously intended, and I love when a colour, expression, texture or tiny detail makes someone feel something. Talking about my art can still overwhelm me, simply because it means so much to me.
I was born in 2004, and I’m still at the beginning of this journey. My style will likely keep changing, because I never want to stop experimenting or learning. But one thing has remained constant: I can’t imagine my life without creating. Art has followed me from childhood, through academic pressure, into adulthood, and alongside my journey in science. It isn’t simply something I do. It is where I belong.
Working together
Commissions are the part of this job I like most, because they start with someone else’s memory instead of mine. There is no rate card and no process to survive: describe what you want in a few sentences and we talk from there.
Newsletter
Letters from the studio
A quiet note whenever a new original, collection or studio story is added. Nothing else, no more than once a month.