Notes on what happens in the middle of a painting — when the first layer is gone and the final one isn't there yet. The moment where everything is wrong and that wrongness is the only way forward.
I started painting and forgot to take a single photo for three hours. This is a reflection on what that means for research, for memory, and for the strange ethics of turning creative process into an academic object.
Read moreWhy acrylic specifically — not oil, not watercolour. On the relationship between drying time, decision-making, and how the material itself shapes the thought.
Some of the figures I paint are real. Some are invented. The question that keeps returning: does the distinction matter? And if not — what does that say about what a portrait is?
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