My latest works grow from close looking, from listening, and from the quiet dialogue between what surrounds me and what remains within me.
As an artist, I have learned to trust my ability to look and to feel deeply. I respond to what I see, hear, sense, and remember. These impressions become the starting point for my work. They are not only observations, but also traces — of places, moments, atmospheres, and inner landscapes. In this way, memory becomes a material of its own.
Over time, my focus has shifted. Where I once worked on larger projects such as buildings, parks, and landscapes, I have gradually turned inward and zoomed in to smaller scales. This change has brought me closer to the intimate world of detail, stillness, and reflection. It is in these smaller spaces that I now find new depth and meaning.
Nature has become even more important to me, not only as a source of inspiration, but as something essential to well-being, balance, and life itself. Through my work in ecology, I learned that nature is not separate from us — it is part of a larger whole, and its importance reaches far beyond the personal. It is vital to the world we all share.
In my recent works, nature, space, and memory come together again. Leaves, lines, textures, and fragments of place appear as echoes of lived experience. The works move between abstraction and recognition, between what is seen and what is felt. They invite quiet attention, offering room for reflection, remembrance, and connection.