Artworks

Affectio, 2026
Acrylic paint and oil pastel on hardboard
40"Hx32"W (102x81cm)

Affectio unfolds as a luminous fusion of figure and feeling, where the young woman at its center becomes less a portrait and more an embodiment of affection itself. Her form emerges from sweeping, gestural strokes—suggestions of a tilt of the head, the soft arc of hands held close to the chest—never fully outlined, always dissolving into the surrounding field of color.

Warm hues dominate the canvas: rose, amber, and muted gold layered in translucent veils that seem to pulse outward from her silhouette. These tones mingle with cooler washes—lavender, slate blue, hints of pale green—that drift across the surface like shifting emotional currents. The interplay of warm and cool creates a sense of inner radiance meeting the complexities of human tenderness.

The woman’s face is only partially defined, a constellation of expressive marks rather than precise features. A single brushstroke suggests a closed eyelid, another the curve of a gentle smile. Her expression is felt more than seen, as if affection is something that glows through her rather than rests upon her.

Around her, the abstract environment vibrates with layered textures: scraped paint revealing earlier gestures, splatters that break the stillness, and bold vertical drags that anchor the composition. These marks give the impression of affection as both fragile and resilient—an emotion shaped by history, memory, and the quiet strength of connection.

Affectio invites the viewer into an intimate emotional space, where the boundaries between the figure and the world blur. The painting becomes a meditation on the warmth we offer and receive, captured not through realism but through the raw, intuitive language of abstract expressionism. 

Nostalgia, serie I, 2026
Acrylic paint and oil pastel on hardboard
40"Hx32"W (102x81cm)

Nostalgia is like a memory struggling to stay intact, its central figure—a young woman shaped from longing itself—emerging not as a separate subject but as part of the swirling storm of color that births her. She is less a person than an impression, a presence hinted at through the soft arc of a shoulder, the subtle lift of a chin, the ghostlike suggestion of fingers dissolving into sweeping ribbons of cadmium yellow and ochre. These warm hues radiate with the glow of something once cherished, a warmth that feels familiar even as it slips further from reach.
Across the surface, muted pink drifts like a half‑forgotten recollection, brushing gently against her features and softening them until they blur at the edges. It’s as though time itself is passing a hand over the painting, smudging details, erasing certainty, leaving only the emotional residue of what once was. Threaded through this haze is raw sienna, grounding the composition with bold, insistent strokes. It cuts through the softness like the heart’s refusal to let go, a reminder that even fading memories can pulse with intensity.
Her expression is never fully defined, yet the faint suggestion of her gaze carries a quiet ache. She seems to rise from the layered pigments like an apparition caught between worlds—part memory, part emotion—hovering in that fragile space where presence begins to unravel into absence. The brushwork is loose, impulsive, deeply human, each stroke echoing the way recollections flicker, distort, and shift when we reach for them.
In the end, Nostalgia is not a portrait in any traditional sense. It is a feeling made visible, a visual echo of longing rendered in color and motion. Warm, wistful, and forever just beyond grasp, it invites the viewer not to recognize the woman, but to remember someone of their own—someone who lives now only in the blurred edges of memory.

Reverentia, 2026
Acrylic paint and oil pastel on hardboard
57"Hx48"W (145x123cm)

Reverentia is not a depiction of holiness but a meditation on the human impulse to revere. The young man is both symbol and self—an abstracted embodiment of veneration, suspended between the physical and the ineffable.
At its center stands a young man, rendered with softened contours that blur the boundary between figure and atmosphere. His form emerges from sweeping strokes of deep indigo, ochre, and muted gold, as though he is being shaped by the very reverence he embodies.

A luminous halo hovers above his head, an expressive ring of fractured light. It flickers with layered textures, suggesting both sanctity and the fragile human longing to honor something greater than oneself. The halo’s edges dissolve into the surrounding canvas, merging with the abstract field as if veneration itself radiates outward, uncontained.

The young man’s posture is humble yet resolute. His head tilts slightly downward, eyes half‑closed, not in submission but in contemplative devotion. His hands, loosely clasped at his chest, are painted with gestural strokes that imply motion—an eternal act of offering or receiving. The figure becomes a vessel for the viewer’s own interpretations of awe, gratitude, or spiritual yearning.

Around him, the background churns with expressive marks: vertical streaks that resemble rising incense, soft washes that evoke breath or prayer, and bold, impulsive gestures that hint at the emotional turbulence behind acts of reverence. The palette shifts from shadowed blues to warm, ascending golds, creating a sense of transcendence that feels earned rather than imposed.
Reverentia is like a quiet invocation, a figurative abstract expressionist painting where emotion takes precedence over realism and symbolism pulses beneath every gesture of color. 

Lenitas, 2026
Acrylic paint and oil pastel on canvass
56"Hx48"W (143x123cm)

Lenitas emerges as a poetic embodiment of kindness — not merely a figure, but a presence shaped through the emotive language of figurative abstract expressionism. She appears as though she is slowly materializing from an atmosphere of warmth and serenity, her form gently dissolving into a luminous haze of soft pinks, muted ochres, and radiant whites. These colors mingle like drifting clouds, creating an environment that feels both intimate and infinite, as if compassion itself were taking shape on the canvas.
The artist’s brushwork is instinctive and fluid, a choreography of sweeping gestures and delicate touches that suggest movement without defining it. Each stroke seems to carry an emotional intention, creating the impression that Lenitas is breathing, expanding, and subtly influencing the space around her. Her presence is not confined to the boundaries of her silhouette; instead, it ripples outward, inviting the viewer to step into her quiet world.
Her features are hinted at rather than fully rendered — eyes that glow softly, conveying tenderness without direct gaze, and lips that curve into a serene, knowing smile. This partial abstraction encourages the viewer to engage emotionally rather than analytically, to sense her essence rather than search for literal detail. Beneath the translucent layers of paint, glimpses of turquoise and gold flicker through, like hidden reservoirs of empathy and inner radiance waiting to be discovered.
A delicate halo of gold leaf encircles her head, not as a rigid symbol but as a gentle shimmer that blends seamlessly into the surrounding light. It feels less like an adornment and more like a natural extension of her spirit — a quiet aura of generosity and grace. The interplay of texture, color, and light creates a visual whisper, a reminder that kindness is both powerful and subtle, both grounding and transcendent.

Ignis, 2026
Acrylic paint and oil pastel on hardboard
40"Hx32"W (102x81cm)

Ignis unfolds like a revelation, a figure coaxed into being by the very radiance she represents. At the center, the young woman—an embodiment of interior light—emerges not through precise contours but through the momentum of sweeping, impulsive strokes.
Deep cadmium orange surges across the canvas in broad, assertive strokes, as if the heat of creation itself is shaping her presence. Ochre settles in softer, grounding passages, giving her form a quiet gravity beneath the blaze. Her form is suggested rather than defined contours dissolving into currents of color, as if she is being born from light itself.
defined contours fragile and fierce, as though she is simultaneously forming and dissolving. Her posture leans slightly forward, chest open, as if offering her light to the viewer or bracing against the force of her own illumination.

Muted pink drifts through the composition like a breath, softening the intensity and suggesting the tenderness of illumination turned inward. Her silhouette is only partially discernible, dissolving at the edges where color overtakes line, as though she is still in the process of becoming. Light seems to originate from within her rather than fall upon her, an inner ignition pushing outward, distorting, warming, and sculpting the surrounding space.

The painting feels alive with motion: strokes collide, overlap, and flare, creating a sense of emergence rather than completion.

Ignis is less a portrait than a moment of transformation captured mid‑flare—a visual metaphor for the human spark, the quiet fire that shape her identity.

Cognis, serie I, 2026
Acrylic paint and oil pastel on hardboard
48"Hx36"W (122x92cm)

Cognis, serie I - refuses to settle into clarity—half‑formed, shimmering, and always slipping just beyond reach. At its center drifts the suggestion of a young woman, not so much depicted as evoked, as though she is being carried forward by a tide of color rather than standing apart from it. Her presence emerges in fragments: the soft arc of a shoulder, the quiet lift of her chin, the ghostlike trace of fingers dissolving into a cascade of cadmium yellow and ochre. These hues radiate with the warmth of something once treasured, glowing with the bittersweet light of a moment that can be felt but no longer touched.

A veil of muted pink drifts across the composition, settling over her features like a gentle recollection. It blurs the edges of her form, softening contours until they seem to fade into the atmosphere, as if time itself is brushing away the specifics and leaving only the emotional residue behind. Threaded through this haze is a deep Venetian red, cutting bold, deliberate paths through the background. Its strokes feel like the heart’s stubborn insistence on holding onto what it cannot fully recall—an anchor of feeling in a sea of fading detail.

Her expression is never fully articulated, yet the faint implication of her gaze carries a quiet, lingering ache. She rises from the layered pigments like an apparition shaped by longing—part figure, part feeling—caught in the delicate space between appearing and vanishing. The brushwork is loose, impulsive, almost breathless, capturing the way memories flicker, distort, and rearrange themselves each time they surface.

Cognis is not a portrait in the traditional sense. It is an emotion given form, a visual echo of yearning and warmth, a reminder of how the past glows bright just as it slips away. It invites the viewer not to identify the woman, but to recognize the sensation she embodies that tender, elusive pull of something beloved and forever just out of reach.

Here comes the Sun, 2018
Acrylic paint on Fabriano cotton paper
20"Hx16"W (50x41cm)

Here Comes the Sun emerges as a luminous declaration of renewal, a moment where darkness loosens its grip and light begins to assert itself through gesture and texture. The composition is anchored by bold, sweeping strokes that cut diagonally across the canvas—gestures charged with momentum, as if carrying the last remnants of night. These deep, assertive marks create a sense of weight and gravity, yet they are pierced and uplifted by fine, radiant lines that shimmer like the first threads of morning.

Beneath the dominant gestures, a marbled field of grays and blacks flows in organic patterns, echoing the quiet turbulence that precedes transformation. This layered ground feels alive, shifting between solidity and fluidity, as though the canvas itself is exhaling. Warm golden accents rise through this darker terrain, not as decoration but as signals—small, insistent pulses of light breaking through the surface.

The interplay of opacity and translucence is central to the painting’s emotional resonance. Areas of dense pigment meet soft, diffused washes, creating a rhythm between force and surrender. The gold, applied in smudges and delicate streaks, acts as the painting’s inner fire: subtle yet undeniable, it suggests the sun’s arrival not as a sudden blaze but as a gradual awakening.

Despite its abstraction, the work carries a narrative of emergence. The gestures feel like movements toward clarity, the textures like echoes of what has been overcome. The painting holds tension, but it also holds promise—the sense that something bright is rising just beyond the frame, already casting its warmth across the surface.

Here Comes the Sun is ultimately a meditation on resilience. It captures the quiet triumph of light returning, the moment when hope becomes visible, and the soul recognizes the shift. It is not simply a depiction of dawn, but an invocation of it—a reminder that even within the most turbulent gestures, illumination is always on its way.

Poles apart, 2019
Acrylic paint on canvass
16"Hx20"W (41x50cm)

Poles Apart unfolds as a charged encounter between two forces suspended in a field of stark clarity. The composition is dominated by a pair of circular forms that face one another across the canvas—two presences held in tension, bound by contrast yet connected by the faintest gestures of shared motion. Each circle carries its own internal weather: dense, layered strokes that spiral, scrape, and collide, revealing the emotional terrain within.

On one side, a dark, textured mass gathers its energy in concentric movements, its surface marked by sharp white lines that cut through the form like sudden flashes of thought. Opposite it, a second circle rises with a different temperament—still dark, but fractured by streaks of white that feel more vertical, more restless, as though pulled upward by an unseen current. Between them, soft horizontal washes drift like a breath, a fragile bridge that both separates and binds the two poles.

The monochromatic palette heightens the drama of their interaction. Black asserts weight and gravity; white carves pathways of illumination; beige hovers as a quiet mediator. The brushwork is raw and deliberate, revealing the hand’s urgency and the mind’s negotiation. Every mark feels like a gesture of communication—sometimes confrontational, sometimes searching, sometimes resigned.

The painting evokes the emotional distance that can exist between two entities—people, ideas, states of being—each complete in itself yet inevitably shaped by the presence of the other. The circles do not merge, but they do not retreat either. They remain suspended in a dynamic equilibrium, their differences creating the very tension that animates the space.

Poles Apart is ultimately a meditation on duality: connection and separation, gravity and release, stillness and movement. It invites the viewer to witness the silent dialogue between opposing forces and to recognize the beauty that emerges when contrast becomes conversation.

Haiku, 2020
Acrylic paint on canvass
40"Hx60"W (102x152cm)

Haiku unfolds with the clarity and restraint of a single breath, echoing the essence of Japanese poetic tradition where a few gestures hold entire worlds. The composition is built around a luminous circular form—an orb of yellow that radiates softly, like a rising sun or a moment of sudden awareness. Its surface carries delicate radial marks, reminiscent of ink spreading through handmade paper, while thin drips descend from its lower edge, suggesting time passing, thought settling, or emotion finding its path.

Two horizontal strokes anchor the painting: one textured and gray, the other deep black. They read like the opening and closing lines of a poem—simple, deliberate, and full of unspoken resonance. Their quiet weight contrasts with the vibrant circle that intersects them, creating a tension between stillness and movement, permanence and impermanence. This interplay mirrors the structure of a haiku, where a single vivid image disrupts and illuminates the surrounding silence.

The white background functions as ma—the Japanese concept of meaningful emptiness. It is not blankness but space that breathes, allowing each gesture to exist with clarity. The restrained palette and the economy of marks evoke the spirit of sumi‑e ink painting, where the brushstroke is both action and meditation, revealing the artist’s state of mind in its immediacy.

Haiku captures a fleeting moment of perception, the kind of instant that traditional haiku poetry seeks to crystallize: a shift of light, a sudden awareness, a quiet truth emerging from simplicity. The painting invites the viewer to pause, to feel the resonance between its elements, and to experience how a few strokes—placed with intention—can open a doorway to contemplation.

Lullaby Song, 2020
Acrylic paint on canvass
16"Hx20"W (41x50cm)

Lullaby Song drifts across the canvas like a quiet melody suspended in air, a visual echo of the way a soft tune can cradle the mind between wakefulness and sleep. Two circular forms anchor the composition, their textured rings turning slowly like distant moons or the grooves of a record spinning at the edge of memory. Their surfaces carry the marks of time — layered strokes, subtle scratches, shifting tones of black and gray — as if each circle holds a verse of its own.

Sweeping gestures of white and charcoal arc across the forms, creating a gentle rhythm that moves through the painting like a whispered refrain. These strokes feel both deliberate and weightless, the way a lullaby balances simplicity with emotional depth. The white canvas surrounding them becomes a field of silence, the kind of quiet that allows a single note — or a single gesture — to resonate fully.

There is a tenderness in the restraint of the palette, a softness in the way the shapes overlap without colliding. The composition suggests two presences leaning toward one another, connected by the invisible thread of a shared song. The brushwork carries a pulse, a slow and steady cadence reminiscent of the soothing repetition found in lullabies across cultures. One might even sense a distant kinship with the gentle, comforting spirit of classic Beatles ballads — songs that wrap the listener in warmth without ever raising their voice.

In Lullaby Song, abstraction becomes a cradle for emotion. The painting invites the viewer to slow down, to breathe with its rhythm, and to feel the quiet intimacy that emerges when form, gesture, and silence align. It is a visual lullaby — not meant to put one to sleep, but to hold the mind in that luminous space where comfort, memory, and imagination meet.

Love letter, 2020
Acrylic paint on canvass
36"Hx36"W (92x92cm)

Love Letter unfolds like a message written without words, a confession carried through gesture rather than ink. The composition is built from bold, overlapping forms—rectangular strokes of black, gray, and soft gold that intersect with the quiet intensity of something deeply felt but only partially spoken. The painting’s structure suggests the architecture of a letter: layers of thought, pauses between lines, emotions pressed into the page with varying pressure.

At the center, a dark vertical form stands like a sealed envelope, its surface marked by subtle textures and softened edges. Gold drips cascade across it, descending in delicate threads that feel like sentiments spilling through the cracks—uncontrolled, unfiltered, honest. These luminous traces bring warmth to the restrained palette, echoing the way affection can brighten even the most guarded spaces.

Surrounding shapes overlap and blur, as though memories and emotions are folding into one another. The interplay of opacity and transparency creates a sense of intimacy, as if the viewer is glimpsing something meant to be private yet offered openly. The brushwork carries both tenderness and urgency: broad strokes that assert presence, finer marks that whisper, and soft transitions that feel like breath between sentences.

The white background acts as silence—the space where meaning gathers. It allows each gesture to resonate, much like the pauses in a heartfelt letter where the unsaid becomes as important as the written. The restrained color palette reinforces this emotional clarity, letting the gold act as the pulse of the piece, the heartbeat beneath the surface.

Love Letter is not a narrative but an emotional imprint. It captures the vulnerability of reaching outward, the courage of revealing one’s inner landscape, and the beauty of connection expressed through abstraction. The painting invites the viewer to read between its lines, to feel the warmth in its contrasts, and to recognize the universal longing woven into its layered forms.

Moonlight, 2020
Acrylic paint on canvass
16"Hx20"W (41x50cm)

Moonlight unfolds like a quiet revelation, a moment when darkness softens and the world becomes legible through silvered light. The composition is built from sweeping gestures of black, gray, and white, layered in a way that suggests both movement and stillness—like clouds drifting across a night sky or shadows shifting under the pull of the moon. The brushstrokes overlap and diverge, creating a rhythm that feels both deliberate and instinctive, echoing the emotional language at the heart of your artistic practice.

A luminous silver presence threads through the painting, catching the eye the way moonlight catches the edges of a landscape. It glints along diagonal lines, settles into translucent washes, and flickers across textured surfaces, giving the work its quiet pulse. These metallic traces do not dominate; instead, they whisper, illuminating the darker forms with a subtle, ethereal glow. The contrast between deep blacks and shimmering silver evokes the way night holds its own kind of clarity—soft, reflective, and profoundly intimate.

The composition’s tension lies in its balance: bold horizontal strokes anchor the space, while sharp white and silver lines cut through with the precision of moonbeams. The interplay of opacity and transparency creates a sense of depth, as if layers of night are unfolding before the viewer. The white background becomes a field of silence, allowing each gesture to resonate like a note in a nocturne.

Moonlight is not a depiction of the night but an evocation of its emotional terrain. It captures the feeling of being suspended between shadow and illumination, of finding clarity in quiet places. The painting invites the viewer to linger, to let their eyes adjust, and to discover the subtle radiance that emerges when darkness is met with light.

King Berendei, 2020
Acrylic paint on canvass
16"Hx20"W (41x50cm)

King Berendei rises from the canvas like a figure forged from myth, gesture, and elemental force. The composition is anchored by a radiant block of gold at its center—a luminous core that feels both regal and ancient, as though it were a relic or a crown glowing from within the painting. This golden form sits atop a darker foundation, a deep black mass that grounds the work with weight and authority. Together, they create the impression of a throne, a chestplate, or the symbolic heart of a sovereign presence.

Sweeping black and white strokes arc diagonally across the canvas, cutting through the central forms with the energy of wind, movement, and command. These gestures feel like the traces of a powerful figure in motion—robes swirling, shadows shifting, a presence that cannot be contained by static form. The white strokes, sharp and luminous, act like flashes of insight or the glint of light on armor, while the black gestures carry the gravity of lineage, tradition, and the deep forested world from which Berendei emerges.

Gold accents shimmer throughout the composition, not merely as decoration but as symbols of vitality, wisdom, and spiritual authority. They appear in thin lines, textured patches, and subtle glints, echoing the way folklore often describes kings not by their crowns alone but by the aura they carry. These golden traces suggest a ruler whose power is not imposed but emanates—quiet, steady, and undeniable.

The white background becomes a field of clarity, a stage upon which the myth unfolds. It allows the gestures to breathe, giving the composition the feeling of a legend told in broad strokes rather than literal depiction. The contrast between the stark white and the dense blacks and golds heightens the sense of drama, as though the figure of Berendei is stepping out of snow, mist, or memory.

King Berendei evokes the duality at the heart of many mythic rulers: strength paired with introspection, authority balanced by wisdom. The painting does not portray a king in a literal sense; instead, it captures the essence of sovereignty as an inner state—a presence shaped by resilience, clarity, and the ability to hold light within darkness. The central gold form becomes the soul of the piece, a symbol of inner fire, while the sweeping gestures around it reveals the forces that shape and challenge that inner radiance.

Voces Intimae, 2020
Acrylic paint on canvass
40"Hx30"W (102x76cm)

Voces Intimae unfolds like a whispered conversation between shadow and light, a visual score of the inner voices that move beneath thought. The composition is built from sweeping gestures of black, white, and gray strokes that intersect, collide, and dissolve into one another with the urgency of unspoken emotion. These marks do not describe a scene; they reveal a state of being, a landscape shaped by intuition rather than logic.

Diagonal and vertical strokes cut through the canvas with a sense of momentum, as though the painting is capturing the fleeting traces of internal dialogue. Some gestures are bold and opaque, carrying the weight of certainty; others are translucent, wavering like half‑formed thoughts or memories surfacing from the subconscious. The interplay between these layers creates a dynamic tension, a rhythm that feels both restless and contemplative.

Sharp‑edged black forms punctuate the composition, their surfaces marked by small white dots that resemble sparks, pauses, or breaths. These elements act like the punctuation of the soul—moments of clarity within the flow of emotion. They anchor the painting, giving structure to the otherwise fluid gestures that sweep across the surface.

The white background serves as a field of silence, a space where the voices can resonate without being overwhelmed. It is the quiet that allows the viewer to hear the painting’s internal music. Within this stillness, the brushstrokes become echoes—some loud, some barely audible—each carrying its own emotional timbre. The monochromatic palette heightens this sense of introspection, stripping the composition down to its essential contrasts so that every gesture feels deliberate, every mark a revelation.

Emotionally, Voces Intimae invites the viewer into a private realm. It is a painting that listens as much as it speaks. The gestures feel like confessions, the layered textures like thoughts layered over time, the stark contrasts like the moments when inner truth breaks through the noise. The work captures the complexity of the inner voice—not a single tone, but a chorus of impulses, doubts, intuitions, and quiet certainties.

Detail of sculpture - Nimbus showing two installation portraits in the background. 

Ephemeral Idyll
Acrylic paint, modeling paste and cast mechanisms on canvass
72"Hx48"W (183x122cm)

Ephemeral Idylle unfolds like a dream suspended between tenderness and strangeness, a surreal tableau where two lovers meet not as ordinary bodies but as intricate worlds—fragile, mechanical, and achingly human. Their embrace is the heart of the composition, yet nothing about them is literal. Their forms are sculpted with modeling paste, giving their surfaces a tactile, almost sculptural presence, as though they have been carved from memory rather than painted. The texture becomes skin, armor, and architecture all at once.

Each figure carries within them a universe of mechanisms, symbols, and hidden chambers. One lover’s chest opens like a reliquary, revealing gears, organic shapes, and the quiet machinery of longing. The other bears stitched limbs, an eye-like emblem, and cross‑shaped markings—signs of vulnerability, repair, and the stories we carry in our bodies. These internal structures are not cold or industrial; they pulse with emotional resonance, suggesting that love is built from both the mechanical and the miraculous, the broken and the beautifully mended.

Their heads, transformed into architectural towers, tilt toward one another in a gesture of impossible intimacy. These structures—imposing, iconic, and slightly askew—evoke the way lovers become monuments in each other’s lives, towering presences shaped by time, memory, and desire. The surreal fusion of body and architecture suggests that identity is not fixed but constructed, layered, and always in the process of leaning toward another.

The background burns with a fiery gradient of reds and oranges, a sky that feels both apocalyptic and tender. It casts the lovers in a warm, otherworldly glow, as though they exist in a realm outside time—a fleeting paradise carved out of chaos. This atmosphere heightens the sense of ephemerality: the moment is luminous, but it trembles, ready to dissolve.

Despite its surrealism, Ephemeral Idylle is deeply emotional. The lovers’ embrace is gentle, protective, and profoundly human. Their mechanical interiors and architectural heads do not distance them from feeling; instead, they reveal the complexity of intimacy—the way we hold our histories, our wounds, our inner workings, and still choose to meet another with openness.

The modeling paste adds a physicality that makes the figures feel almost sculpted, as if they could step out of the canvas. The textures catch the light, emphasizing the tension between solidity and fragility. The mechanisms embedded within their bodies suggest that love is both constructed and spontaneous, engineered and instinctive. It is a system that can break, repair itself, and continue.

Ephemeral Idylle becomes a meditation on the fleeting nature of connection. It captures the moment when two beings—complex, imperfect, and beautifully strange—find harmony, even if only for an instant. The painting invites the viewer to witness this fragile union, to feel the warmth of the embrace, and to recognize the delicate machinery that makes love possible.

Icarus
Acrylic paint, modeling paste and cast mechanisms on canvass
72"Hx40"x54"W irregular (183x122cm)

Icarus stands as a haunting reimagining of the ancient myth, recast through the lens of surrealism and the emotional architecture that defines your work. The figure, seen from behind, rises against a fiery, textured expanse—an atmosphere that feels both celestial and catastrophic. His body, sculpted with a metallic sheen, appears forged rather than born, as though he is a being assembled from memory, machinery, and longing. This is not the youthful dreamer of classical lore but a modern Icarus, rebuilt from fragments of myth and the inner mechanisms of desire.

A single golden wing unfurls from his left side, luminous and impossibly delicate. It glows with the warmth of aspiration, the shimmer of hope, the fragile beauty of a dream that insists on flight. Yet the wing’s solitary presence speaks of imbalance, of a journey undertaken with more yearning than preparation. It becomes the symbol of every human attempt to rise beyond one’s limits—radiant, courageous, and perilously incomplete.

From the upper right, a sculptural, blade‑like structure pierces or connects with the figure’s hand. This mechanical intrusion suggests the weight of fate, the sharp edge of ambition, or the moment when vision becomes burden. It is as though the very force that propels him upward also anchors him to the inevitability of descent. The red line running down his spine intensifies this tension—a thin, precise mark that reads as wound, axis, or the burning thread of destiny.

The background burns with oranges, reds, and molten golds, evoking both the sun that lured Icarus upward and the fire that consumed him. It is an atmosphere of intensity, a realm where desire and danger blur. Against this inferno, the figure’s metallic body becomes a vessel of contrast—cool against heat, constructed against elemental force, human against mythic consequence.

Despite its dramatic imagery, Icarus is not a tale of failure. It is a meditation on the complexity of striving—the courage to rise, the cost of ambition, and the beauty found in the moment before the fall. The mechanical elements embedded in the figure’s form echo the inner workings of longing, the gears of aspiration turning even when the outcome is uncertain. The golden wing, though solitary, remains a testament to the human impulse to transcend.

The unberable fragility of beeing
Acrylic paint, modeling paste and cast mechanisms on canvass
60"Hx40"W (152x102cm)

The unbearable fragility of being stands as a stark, intimate allegory of human vulnerability—an image where the body is not a closed vessel but an exposed architecture of wires, gears, and trembling emotion. The figure emerges from a torn, textured surface, as though pushed into existence before it is fully formed. Its head and torso are rendered as a delicate wireframe, a scaffolding rather than a shell, revealing the precariousness of identity and the thin membrane that separates interior from exterior.

At the center of the chest, a heart-like form—encased in wire, suspended, half‑mechanical—beats with symbolic tension. It is both protected and imprisoned, a fragile core held together by the very structures that threaten to constrict it. Nearby, gears and mechanical fragments protrude like the hidden machinery of consciousness, suggesting that even our most intimate emotions are shaped by forces we do not fully understand.

Kundera wrote that “the heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.” In this artwork, the burden is not physical but existential. The figure carries the weight of its own transparency—its inner workings laid bare, its heart exposed, its structure incomplete. And yet, there is a strange lightness in its wireframe form, a suggestion that fragility itself can be a kind of freedom, a release from the illusion of solidity.

The painting becomes a meditation on what it means to exist in a body that is both resilient and breakable, constructed and dissolving, mechanical and deeply human. The torn edges around the figure hint at the wounds we emerge from and the ones we carry forward. The exposed gears speak to the systems—emotional, psychological, societal—that shape us. The wireframe head suggests a mind always in flux, always rebuilding itself.

The unbearable fragility of being is not a portrait of despair but of truth. It acknowledges that to be alive is to be unfinished, permeable, and vulnerable. It invites the viewer to witness the delicate machinery of existence and to recognize, within that fragility, a profound and luminous strength. 

The Threat of Thoughts
Acrylic paint, modeling paste and cast mechanisms on canvass
40"Hx48"x54"W irregular (122x102cm)

The threat of thoughts unfolds as a stark allegory of the mind under siege, a surreal portrait of consciousness exposed and manipulated by forces both internal and unseen. The central figure stands robed and solemn, its body rendered with textured depth, yet its head is hollowed out—an open chamber filled with gears, wires, and the delicate machinery of thought. This cavity is not a wound but a revelation, a window into the relentless mechanisms that shape perception, memory, and fear.

From this exposed interior, a thin wire extends outward, taut and trembling, connecting the figure to a disembodied hand suspended at the edge of the composition. The hand—stitched, fragile, and unsettlingly alive—manipulates a complex mechanical device, a tangle of wires and components that resembles both a tool and a trap. This connection suggests a mind pulled by its own creations, controlled by the very thoughts it tries to contain. The wire becomes a metaphor for the invisible threads that bind us to our anxieties, obsessions, and inner narratives.

The figure’s robe, heavy with texture, evokes a sense of ritual or burden, as though the act of thinking itself has become ceremonial, weighty, and inescapable. The hollow head contrasts sharply with the solidity of the garment, emphasizing the fragility of the inner world compared to the outer shell we present. The gears within the head turn silently, echoing the ceaseless churn of thought—mechanical, repetitive, and often beyond our control.

The background burns with warm, turbulent tones—ochres, oranges, and deep browns—creating an atmosphere of psychological heat. It feels like the interior of a mind in turmoil, a landscape where clarity flickers and shadows expand. Against this fiery backdrop, the monochrome figure appears both isolated and illuminated, caught in the tension between introspection and overwhelm.

The threat of thoughts is not a depiction of madness but of the delicate balance between thinking and being consumed by thought. It captures the moment when the mind becomes its own puppeteer, when ideas tighten into constraints, and when the machinery of introspection threatens to eclipse the self. Yet within this tension lies a quiet truth: the figure remains upright, present, and aware. The painting acknowledges the danger of overthinking while honoring the profound complexity of the inner life.

Vertigo
Acrylic paint, modeling paste and cast mechanisms on hardwood
60"Hx40"W (152x102cm)

Vertigo unfolds as a descent into the unstable terrain of perception, a surreal vision where the boundaries of the self dissolve into molten texture, fractured symbols, and watchful eyes. The composition is dominated by a dense, golden mass—an undulating surface that seems to melt, churn, and breathe. Embedded within this luminous field are countless eyes, half‑submerged yet unmistakably present, as though consciousness itself has fragmented into a multitude of gazes. They watch from beneath the surface, creating a sense of unease, introspection, and the dizzying awareness of being both observer and observed.

Suspended above this molten expanse hangs a large golden sphere, tethered by a thin string. It hovers like a celestial body, a pendulum, or a fragile world held in precarious balance. Its surface reveals hints of mechanical and anatomical forms, suggesting that even this radiant orb is not whole but constructed—part machine, part organism, part dream. The sphere becomes the axis of the composition, the point around which the sensation of vertigo spirals.

Below, human feet emerge from the fiery ground—some rendered in grayscale, others gilded, as though caught between materiality and transformation. They appear to be sinking, rising, or dissolving into the molten surface, evoking the instability of standing on shifting emotional terrain. These feet anchor the work in the human body, yet their placement and fragmentation heighten the sense of disorientation. They are remnants of presence, traces of movement, or symbols of the fragile contact between the self and the world.

The background burns with warm, turbulent tones—ochres, oranges, and deep golds—creating an atmosphere of psychological heat. It feels like the interior of a mind overwhelmed by sensation, where clarity flickers and the ground seems to tilt. Against this fiery backdrop, the golden mass and suspended sphere appear both luminous and threatening, embodying the dual nature of vertigo: the pull toward collapse and the strange beauty of surrendering to the fall.

Vertigo is not a depiction of physical dizziness but an allegory of emotional and existential imbalance. It captures the moment when the self becomes porous, when identity fractures into multiple perspectives, when the world tilts and the familiar becomes uncanny. The embedded eyes suggest hyper-awareness, the burden of seeing too much or being unable to look away. The suspended sphere hints at the fragile equilibrium we cling to. The sinking feet reveal the body’s struggle to remain grounded.

Scheherazade, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
30"x20" (76x51 cm)

Go West!, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
First step, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
20"x30" (51x76 cm)

Fertility, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
First step, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
20"x35" (51x90 cm)

Tauromachie, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
First step, 2003
Mixed media (painted wire and collage on Canson tinted paper)
20"x35" (51x90 cm)