About

The way I see it.

For me, painting begins long before the first brushstroke. It starts with a thought, an image, a concept, or sometimes just the feeling that the concept can be created.

I’m drawn to subjects that already carry meaning people, places, memories, concepts, everyday moments but I don’t always want to present them the way we’re used to seeing them. A divine figure doesn’t always need the familiar glow, dramatic pose, or perfectly arranged composition. Sometimes, I find more beauty in imagining the moment before the spectacle: quieter, more human, almost candid.

That way of thinking shapes how I approach a painting. I care a lot about composition, proportion, balance, visual weight, and where the eye travels through a frame. I can spend an unreasonable amount of time deciding where something should sit before I even pick up a brush. Because to me, a painting doesn’t become compelling simply because it is colourful or technically impressive. Every element should have a reason to be there.

I have no formal training in art. I’m still learning, experimenting, making mistakes, and figuring out the craft as I go. There are plenty of times when I genuinely don’t know what I’m doing. I feel the lack of skill, get frustrated, and then, as usual, pick myself up and start figuring it out. It can be ridiculously torturous. But somewhere in that process, there’s also something I really enjoy.

I’ve always trusted my eye and my curiosity enough to chase the things I want to see. And honestly, I’ve never been interested only in painting. I love anything that asks something of my creativity electronics, mechanical toys, graphics, games, robotics, DIY projects, clay, science experiments, sketching, crafting, and whatever else I happen to get obsessed with.

PaintTheory is partly an attempt to bring all of that back to one place. More importantly, it’s a reminder to myself to keep creating. I want to build a body of work that feels genuinely mine something large, strange, memorable, and hopefully worth sitting back and looking at someday.

And perhaps that’s what keeps me painting: the possibility of seeing something differently, and maybe making someone else see it that way too.