For a long time, I thought I was painting the wrong way. I was never the person who carefully filled perfect shapes with tiny brushes. I'd spill paint, smudge colours together, get impatient waiting for layers to dry, or accidentally leave a painting sitting because my ADHD brain had already wandered somewhere else. I'd come back only to realise the paint had dried when it was meant to be blended.

I used to get frustrated by the mess. Until I realised that those exact smudges, dried edges and forgotten layers were becoming the parts I loved most. they gave my paintings depth in a way I could never have planned.

What I once saw as mistakes slowly became the visual language of my work.

Today, I don't try to fight that process anymore. every painting is built slowly, layer by layer, carrying traces of every decision, every accident and every moment in between.