Over the past few months I've shared several new artworks, but I never really talked about them. Most people understood them exactly the way I hoped they would, but today I simply feel like talking.
Not explaining my work, Just putting thoughts into words.
Invisible Experiences
I think this is probably the most controversial artwork I've made recently.
Instagram wouldn't even let me upload it uncensored.
So this feels like the right place for you to see it the way I created it.
The inspiration came from one of the most ordinary moments imaginable.
A conversation with my father. My father is a wonderful man. This story isn't about him.
A few days ago I suddenly felt my period starting. Blood was running down my legs, so I rushed to the bathroom.
I was standing there in pain. could not yet move. trying to wash myself, trying to clean my clothes, while blood was coming down on the lags.
At that exact moment my father walked to the bathroom door and asked, if I was still going to wash the dishes like you promised.
I answered,"Yes."
He walked away.
A minute later I had cleaned myself, changed my clothes, cleaned the bathroom. then I walked out washed the dishes, and even baked a cake.
He still has no idea that while he was worried about the dishes, I was literally standing in my own blood.
And that's the point. Not because he did anything wrong.
But because there are experiences that remain completely invisible unless you've lived through them yourself.
Women carry these moments every month. We smile. We continue conversations. We go to work. We make dinner. We finish what needs to be finished.
As if nothing is happening.
This artwork isn't about pain. It's about invisibility.
About the parts of life people never witness, yet quietly expect us to carry anyway.
That's why it's called Invisible Experiences.
The Cliff
This artwork is loved by many. they tell me exactly the same thing:"It feels peaceful."
Even though the figure looks completely exhausted, broken down, on it's last breath.
And every time I smile because...
Yes.
That's exactly what I wanted you to feel.
There is a very strange moment after immense pain. After heartbreak. After disappointment. After you've fought so hard that you simply cannot fight anymore.
You stop resisting.
You collapse.
And suddenly the cold ground beneath you...
The wind touching your skin...
The silence around you...
They remind you that the universe is infinitely larger than your suffering.
Nothing has actually changed.
Your problems are still there.
But somehow...
For a brief moment...
Your body lets go.
You surrender.
Not because you've given up.
Because you've finally stopped trying to control everything.
That's what The Cliff is about.
The strange peace that only arrives after you've completely exhausted yourself.
The Moon
This is still one of my favorite paintings.
Maybe because every time I look at it, I ask myself the same question.
Can you own something that was never meant to belong to anyone?
The moon hangs quietly above the water. Untouchable. But its reflection suddenly feels close enough to hold.
A pair of hands gathers the water, trying to steal something impossible.
But what are they actually holding?
The moon?
Its reflection?
Or simply an illusion?
On one palm there is a single red eye.
It was inspired by the Hindu sky deity, but it's also the same symbol tattooed on my own hand.
The hand in this painting is my hand.
Because every artist leaves part of themselves inside their work.
Maybe that's why people sometimes feel they know us without ever meeting us.
This painting isn't really about the moon.
It's about one of the oldest human desires.
To possess beauty and dreams.
To possess love and power.
To possess things that were never ours in the first place. things that should not belong to anyone.
Sometimes we believe we've captured them.
Only to realize we've been holding a reflection all along.
Perhaps the moon was never the subject of this painting. Perhaps we are.
The truth is...
Lately I feel all three of these artworks at the same time.
Invisible. Exhausted. Trying to hold on to something that always seems just out of reach.
Some nights I genuinely feel like crying myself to sleep.
Not because I'm having an existential crisis. I do not. I've already asked those questions years ago, and go through them. I do not talk about mental state.
This is something much simpler. Life can be incredibly difficult. and I am now at one of the lowest points through actual physical experiences.
I knew the world wasn't fair. I just didn't expect how often effort goes unnoticed.
How many things you have to let go of.
How many dreams need to be reshaped.
How often surrender is not weakness, but the only thing left you can do.
Sometimes I honestly cannot see hope from where I'm standing.
But tomorrow morning... I'll still wake up, make tea. I'll still answer messages. sit in front of a blank piece of paper. Because that's what artists do.
We continue creating long before we know how the story ends.
And maybe that's why I wanted to write this today.
Not because I have answers but because I know some of you have felt like this too.
If these paintings have ever made you feel understood... Then maybe, without realizing it,
we've already been carrying a small part of each other's weight.