ABOUT MY PAINTING

My painting begins with reality,
but it rarely remains faithful to it.

I do not always try to tell the viewer exactly what they should see.

Quite the opposite.

I like to leave space for their own interpretation.

The same painting may be a landscape to one person, a memory to another, a dream, a fear, a figure, or something entirely undefined. This possibility of different interpretations is an important part of my approach to painting.

I often begin with a specific idea, yet as I work, the painting begins to lead me in another direction. The original idea may become distorted, covered, broken apart and replaced by something I had never planned. For this reason, the process of creating is just as important to me as the initial idea.

Contrasts often appear in my work: beauty and unease, life and death, light and darkness, nature and distortion, order and chaos. Flowers can be delicate, but they can also carry the weight of passing time. Figures may resemble human beings while simultaneously remaining something unfamiliar. A landscape can cease to be a place and become an emotional state.

I do not limit myself to a single subject or a single technique. For me, the image itself and its emotional and visual language are more important than the medium alone. Many of my current works are created in acrylic, but I also intend to return to oil painting, which I first explored as a child.

My paintings do not form one single, closed world. Each series is a different path. Some lead through flowers, nature and transformation. Others explore humanoid figures, surreal spaces and geometric divisions. There are also more personal and darker works, touching upon hope, faith, suffering, loneliness, and the boundary between good and evil.

In the series The Places We Were Never Meant to Find, I am particularly interested in this boundary - in places that may exist more within our consciousness than in the physical world. They are spaces that can only be discovered when we stop looking solely at what lies directly before us.

Perhaps that is why, for me, painting is above all a form of searching. I do not always know where the next painting will lead me.

And that is precisely what makes it so interesting.

I am interested in the moment when something recognisable begins to transform into something ambiguous - somewhere between dream and reality, between what we see and what we can imagine. I observe the world, but then I allow my imagination to alter its form, to break it apart and rebuild it.

In my paintings, realism often becomes a starting point for surrealism, abstraction and geometric distortion. Forms may be enclosed within cubist shapes, cut through by lines and streaks, shifted against one another, or deliberately stripped of any single, definite meaning. Vertical and horizontal brush marks are also characteristic of my work, crossing the surface of the painting like traces left by claws. They are not merely decorative elements for me - they create tension, disrupt the space and allow the painting to develop its own rhythm.