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💬 What Remains Unsaid
Read more: 💬 What Remains UnsaidHome There are days when beauty hides in the most unlikely corners in stillness after disturbance, in the quiet pulse of things returning to themselves. Perhaps care itself is a kind of art. It asks for no audience, no applause: only presence. The moment may pass unnoticed, yet within it lives a strange tenderness, a…
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☀️ Roots, Light and Life
Read more: ☀️ Roots, Light and LifeHome Last night I attended the opening of Sam & Ross Café Gallery in Hamburg, a space where art, friendship, and creativity came together in the most vibrant way. The evening reminded me of the quiet strength of art. It does more than decorate a space: it gathers people, dissolves differences, and creates a shared…
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🌿 Resisting Conformity with Creation
Read more: 🌿 Resisting Conformity with CreationHome In today’s world, I often feel how much of life is turning mechanical: conversations reduced to transactions, connections filtered through cold screens, gestures of kindness pushed aside by speed and conformity. The more the world moves in this direction, the more I long for softness, for humanity, for the unspoken language of care. That…
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💬 When the Missing Never Ends
Read more: 💬 When the Missing Never EndsHome There is a kind of longing that has no destination. You miss something—someone—a place—a time— that you know you’ll never meet again. Not in the same form. Not in the same light. For me, it’s my country. But not the country in the news or the maps. It’s a memory of jasmine in the…
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💻 When Sharing Silences the Source: On the Cost of Being Seen
Read more: 💻 When Sharing Silences the Source: On the Cost of Being SeenHome I built my website to create visibility—for my paintings, my writings, my felt pieces, my thoughts. It was a necessary step, I believed, to claim space as an artist in a world that rewards presence and polish. And yet, since building it, something has shifted. I find myself painting more, yes—but felting less. Not…
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🕊️ The Weight of Honesty in a Masked World
Read more: 🕊️ The Weight of Honesty in a Masked WorldHome I’ve learned — sometimes painfully — that honesty is not just a virtue. It’s a burden. A genuine artist, if they are truly listening to themselves, cannot hide. We speak with colour. We confess with brushstrokes. We cry through textures, stitch by stitch. We do not wear masks. But the world… oh, the world…
Felt, Paint & Reflection 