Layer by Layer, A Life

Someone in my family passed yesterday.

I won’t speak of grief as something heavy, but I will speak of it as something honest.

Grief, like joy, like longing, like ecstasy, lives in my paintings.

Each piece is built in layers, sometimes over months or even years.

Each layer holds a feeling, a day, a memory, a shift.

To me, a painting isn’t just art. It’s a soul. A presence. A life of its own.

It doesn’t just reflect what I felt while painting it, it holds it. It holds all of it, quietly and fully, like a witness.

And when a painting finds its place on someone’s wall, something magical happens. It begins to witness them.

Their mornings and nights. Their quiet moments. Their joy. Their longing.

It lives with them. It sees them.

Not something that has lived — but something that is still living.

Just like the soul of a person — still present, still real.. Energy doesn’t end. Presence doesn’t vanish.

It just shifts into a different kind of closeness.

Layer by layer, the painting becomes part of a new story — yours.