My paintings find their origin in my language experience with my mother, who had suffered from severe aphasia since I was six. Her way of speaking had been reduced to a form of simplified language: incorrect words, sentences without clear logic, yet nonetheless full of meaning. It is in this simplicity – or hidden complexity – that my work is rooted.

I use a simple color palette, basic shapes, a composition that is sometimes logical, sometimes not. The images do not necessarily have to “work” in the traditional sense. What matters is the representation of a language that has diverged, that has changed, that has become something else – another way of speaking, of seeing. The elements are there; perhaps we can use them. Perhaps not.

They exist independently of reality, are immediately recognizable, yet language is often misleading. At every moment, each object received a new name, and we had to rediscover its meaning again and again.

At home, there were no rules in language. Everything was possible. Poetry could not compete with our conversations.

This is the form of (visual) language in which I was raised, and it is also the form I try to convey in these works.
Simple. Sometimes absurd. Sometimes understandable, sometimes not. Take it as it is, and make your own way with it. I am offering you something.