For over 20 years, I have lived with a life-threatening heart condition—an invisible battle that has shaped every part of my being. In the face of pain, uncertainty, and vulnerability, I discovered a sanctuary: art. Every brushstroke I make comes from my heart—quite literally. Painting is not just a passion; it’s a lifeline, a space where I feel calm, safe, and free from the stress that shadows chronic illness. It’s where my heart can rest, and my soul can speak.

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My work is deeply emotional and unapologetically human. I am drawn to beauty—not the polished, filtered kind you see in magazines, but the raw, real kind that lives in people who have survived, struggled, failed, loved, and lost.

 

I love beautiful women, not in a stereotypical or commercial sense, but in the way someone’s scars, stories, and softness can radiate power and grace. I believe everyone carries a beauty within them—unique, imperfect, and true.

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My art is a mirror. It is created to help YOU feel beautiful. Not perfect—who decides what that even means? But beautiful in your own skin, in your own story. If my paintings make you feel seen, soothed, or simply at peace, then they’ve done what they were meant to do.

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I also believe that beauty doesn’t require perfection—or waste. Wherever possible, I reuse old canvases, giving discarded or forgotten pieces new life. There’s something deeply meaningful about painting over what once was, allowing layers of history, mistakes, and memories to remain part of the final work.

 

It’s a gentle rebellion against the idea that we always need to start fresh or be flawless. Reusing materials is my way of respecting the planet, reducing waste, and proving that art—like people—can be reborn, reimagined, and still hold deep, lasting beauty.