Four collections

Different rooms. One inner world.

Family, love, the marks we leave, and the landscapes within. Follow the thread that feels like yours.

Black cats with amber eyes gathered in a golden halo above a tombstone marked R.I.P., a spilled red glass, and the word ENOUGH, in a storm of violet and grey oils.

01 / 3 paintings

Family & Inheritance

The worlds we come from, and the ones we make.

These are the hardest rooms in the house, painted anyway. Fathers, mothers, childhood — the emotional architecture we are handed before we can read the blueprints. The works in this collection use houses, roots, storms, and symbols to say what family rarely says out loud. They were painted as release, and they read that way: honest, unguarded, and finally at peace with being seen.

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A whole chapter compressed onto one canvas — dense small scenes, a green face, tic-tac-toe marks, birds, a red heart and a silver spiral — now held at observing distance.

02 / 2 paintings

Love & Loss

What the heart builds, keeps, and finally lets go.

A heart painted the size of the canvas, because that is the size it feels. These works trace the full arc — the luminous simplicity of love, the structures we build around it, and the strange afternoon when what once undid you becomes something you can look at calmly, the way you look at a painting on a wall.

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An open hand rising against washed violet, each finger painted into something else — a bird, a flame, a river, a tree growing from the fingertip.

03 / 3 paintings

The Marks We Leave

Hands, footprints, and the proof of being here.

The oldest art on Earth is a handprint on a cave wall, and this collection stands in that lineage without apology. Hands pressed into warmth and darkness, a footprint mid-step, fingers that flower into other lives — each work is a declaration of presence. I was here. I touched things. I kept walking.

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A mind in two weathers — a warm amber field with interlocking rings and a deep red orb beside a midnight blue field of stars, small framed thoughts scattered between.

04 / 2 paintings

Inner Landscapes

The invisible architecture of thought.

Maps of places that exist only from the inside. These works chart consciousness the way older painters charted coastlines — dotted pathways, rooms of feeling, weather systems of memory and perception. They are painted intuitively and read intuitively: you do not decode them, you recognise them.

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