There is a period when everyone is withdrawn and withdrawn into their shell. Of course mine did too. I was bored, overwhelmed and sometimes thought that my productivity was over.


Life was just black and white for me. Had the other colors been lost or hidden in a corner, then I could not distinguish it yet. It was not a gloomy mood… I did not feel isolated from society, it was entirely my own choice. I deliberately entered this path… Maybe this was the first step of a transformation… If I had to put this situation into words, I can say it is a journey of returning to the essence, discovering my soul and finding me inside. Yes, yes, that’s exactly how I would describe it.


Would you be surprised if I told you that it was art that guided me on my journey? Art is an extraordinary power in my life that sheds light on every aspect of human life, illuminates the future and conveys the memories lived between generations. There is no one who does not know cave paintings that shed light on the history of humanity! These are the simplest forms of transfer. In any part of my development process – the process never ends, it continues for a lifetime, as long as you take your first step on this path once – I chose art as a guide. In particular, I have worked in painting works with different perspectives.


I started my work in my own workshop. I’ve observed everything you can think of. I made it out of shapes from the clouds. I watched butterflies flutter their wings. I discovered harmony in the folds of a caterpillar. I observed the colors of nature, the colors of the human spirit and the inner conflicts of the painters on their canvases. I looked at the human. Then to the animals… When I said city life, village life, I got lost in observations. If you are interested in painting as a branch of art, even an ordinary event such as the sunrise and sunset can inspire you. There are many options in the picture. What matters is how you interpret these options.


I love to travel, see and learn. I do not have an investigative spirit, but “Does one who lives a lot or travels a lot know?” Of course, I call your question wandering. Because life only makes sense when you start to discover different things.


At the beginning of my passion for painting, I benefited from my travels. I created a “Travel” concept. I repaired my broken laths with my own hands and made canvases. Since I want everything to be simple and just in this workshop, I never went overboard. I wanted the flamboyant to be discovered, not seen. First, I started by drawing small details from the places I visited. For example, an unfinished glass of water in a country coffee… First I became that glass, then I became the unfinished water in it, then I spilled on the floor and disappeared. The wind blew me away, I got mixed in with the rain… Some of me got dirty, some of me remained clean… I mean, I tried to feel everything that could happen to that water and glass. How were the fingers holding it? Was he old or young? Maybe no one drank half of it, it evaporated from the heat… Why did I do all this? Because in order to draw something, you have to feel it with your whole being. Only then do I think you have completed the evolution of things! It has become an object that has completed its evolution and is ready to pass on to other souls and brains…


When I was little, I used to get scared and upset when I broke something, and I even hid the pieces. My grandmother must have realized this that one day she said to me: “Don’t worry, my child, just as people have time, so too do things. When the time comes, they will be broken and gone.” He said. Since that day, I have set my soul free. Of course, this freedom was reflected in my drawings. I never fit into a particular mold! The little details I took from my travels have grown over time. Table next to the water glass, chairs, people, village people, city, car sounds and traffic lights next to the table… Then emotions found their place in my paintings. The colors I use have changed. Even if they interfered, they began to make sense. It was over, I was finally in life. There was not only me but also life in my canvases. I was not afraid of making mistakes and breaking them. I’ve wasted a lot of canvas, let me be frank… Until a few weeks ago, I could never complete my work on a single canvas. I have never forgotten that things have a time. I was not offended by my spilled paints or broken canvases. Over time, I began to think that that life was partly in my hands. I learned to fix it with art instead of taking a nap at the first mistake. Do you believe? This loaded different perspectives on my drawings. It was the same thought I started with, I explained what I wanted. But the interpretation on my canvas was more beautiful than in my mind. It was even amazing… It was a work of art… It was my work… Now I can name them. All of them were the language of my heart… they came out of my heart, took shape in my brain and came to life in my hands. Later, I got rid of the patterns I took shelter in. Instead of drawing the places I have visited, namely the concrete, I turned to the abstract. I drew the places in my dreams, my utopia. I created utopian characters. Most of them were fairy tale heroes for me, since I was the author of the fairy tale, I had an incredible bond with all of them.