Articulating through art

Yes, I studied graphic design and I’m still working as a brand designer as a side job, but art has always been a part of me. From a very young age, I was constantly drawing and creating, though I only began painting four years ago. For most of my life, I turned to writing to articulate my thoughts and feelings. However, I felt limited; words were not enough to capture the depth of what I was feeling, so one day I woke up at 4am with an urge to express myself differently. I just picked up a brush and began to paint, and that’s how my journey as an artist began.

My curiosity was sparked by a desire to understand the world around me, why things worked the way they did, why people behaved in certain ways and how everything was connected. I was fascinated by the mysteries of everyday life, from the patterns of nature to the emotions that drove human actions. These questions naturally led me to explore different ways of finding answers. Painting allowed me to explore my questions creatively. I could visualise abstract ideas, tell stories that conveyed deeper meanings and capture emotions that were hard to articulate in words alone. Art gave me the freedom to interpret the world as I saw it and to communicate my curiosity in a way that resonated with others. It became a bridge between my inner thoughts and the external world, allowing me to explore, question and express without limitation.

I use Transcendental Meditation (TM). This method involves mentally repeating a mantra, which helps me reach a state of deep relaxation and awareness where I’m fully present and focused. It helps me quiet the noise - the chatter of my mind. To me, it brings significant value to my art because it helps me access the deep layers of my mind, ideas and emotions that might not surface otherwise, allowing my work to flow more intuitively and authentically. Unfiltered.

It often begins with an intense burst of emotion or a specific thought that I feel compelled to explore. The initial idea might be something abstract - a feeling, a memory, a question I can’t quite answer, or a response to something I’ve observed and reflected upon. I simply let my mind wander freely, allowing myself to be pulled in multiple directions. It could feel very chaotic, so when I paint, I don’t plan every detail in advance - they emerge organically. The kaleidoscope of elements in my work reflects the complexity of my inner landscape, a prism of altered realities. Each motif represents a fragment of a larger story, especially when I aim to unlock the hidden, even repressed, desires and emotions deep in our psyche, the shadow self. I aim to break the chains that hinders the evolution of the human consciousness. The frenetic nature captures the way these thoughts and emotions coexist and interact. The titles are often chosen after the painting is finished. They are meant to provoke thought and invite viewers to find their own interpretations, reflecting the complexity of the thought process behind the work itself.

To me they complement each other. I think they are deeply interconnected. Science and art are both about exploring unknown territory, understanding the fundamental principles of creation and uncovering hidden patterns and truths about life. In many ways, art and science are about the same pursuit. In any case, I don’t make art for art’s sake, I use it to translate what’s in my mind’s eye creatively. In a way, I use art to visualise what science explores abstractly, creating a bridge between the analytical and the intuitive, the known and the unknown. If there’s any kind of god, it would exist in the space between the artist and the scientist. If there’s any kind of magic in this world it would be in the attempt of understanding. The artist and the scientist are both distracted by their own thoughts - they frequently have to be pulled in out of the rain. They are simultaneously vastly knowledgeable and yet innocent, impulsive yet cautious. They represent the wonder to be found in curiosity, playfulness and the dangers, the paradoxical balance of existence.

I like this question. You know, I always say being an artist is like being under an X-ray all the time. You are allowing the world to see you inside out, unfiltered. In the beginning, yes, it was definitely uncomfortable but then being vulnerable is an essential part of being an artist. It’s a way to connect with people on a deeper level, with honesty and authenticity, revealing what’s usually kept hidden. It’s not easy. However, while it can be challenging, it’s also incredibly rewarding, especially when viewers resonate with my work and find their own emotions or experiences reflected in it. This is so important to me. So, this discomfort is part of what makes the connection meaningful; it shows that I’m expressing something true, something real.

It’s in my nature to experiment and explore different ways or different mediums to express myself. You can say using art films is an extension of my desire to tell the stories beyond just the canvas. It translates my paintings into motion. While painting allows me to capture a moment, film provides a dynamic medium that involves movement. It creates a more immersive or multi sensory experience. It allows a more fluid narrative, a new dimension for expression.

As a woman, I uphold femininity in my art as the source of life, divinity regeneration and nurturing, breaking down taboo and stigma. I try to capture people’s emotions, thoughts and desires, especially hidden ones - their conscious desire versus their subconscious belief - including mine. I tend to focus on the entangled, even compelling, and transformative relationship between the mind and the heart. Love is a striking example of how little reality means to us, since love has been described as both a finding of the self in another and as a balm for all the slights and sorrows faced in childhood. I found that these contrasting elements often coexist in our lives, in my life, revealing an intricate dance between our deepest fears and our attempt to find joy or escape, or just transcend the human experience altogether. ‘Le jeu d’amour’ encapsulates this duality. It highlights the notion that love and the human interaction can be a complex game, a tension between the light and the dark facets of the human experience. Which also makes me ask the question, what is really love? How can you find it? How can you know it? Maybe love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.

I am currently still working on ‘Le jeu d’amour’ series as I am preparing for a solo exhibition at the end of October. And then I don’t know - I’m excited to find out what will emerge from my next series.