Some images feel familiar before we have seen them. Some places resemble memories that never happened. I am drawn to this moment of uncertainty, when the unfamiliar feels intimate and the imagined acquires the weight of experience.

I am interested in the possibility that recognition often precedes memory. We encounter something for the first time and yet feel that we already know it. What interests me is this fracture between perception and certainty, where the invented becomes inseparable from the remembered.

Figures, animals, masks and solar forms recur throughout the work — most often in painting — reappearing in different configurations. They do not function as symbols with fixed meanings but as recurring presences within a world that seems to remember itself.

I think of images as carriers of inherited structures: fragments of myth, cultural memory and forgotten narratives. They travel across works, accumulating associations while resisting a single interpretation.

My practice inhabits the space between memory and invention, the lived and the imagined, where something that never happened can still feel impossible to forget.