Work led by feeling
Painting has never been something I approach with a plan. I don’t sketch ideas or decide on colours beforehand—I work instinctively. Most of the time, I don’t fully understand what I’m trying to express until it’s already on the canvas.
There was a period in my life where everything felt heavy—being far from home, navigating who I was, and carrying that mostly on my own. Painting became the one place where none of that could reach me. When I was in it, my mind would go completely quiet.
Painting became the one place where none of that could reach me. When I was in it, my mind would go completely quiet.
I moved to the UK alone at nineteen. At the time, I thought I was just chasing a creative path, but looking back, I was also searching for a place where I could feel more like myself.
That’s still how I work now.
I paint in solitude, often without stopping, and I’ve always found the process too personal to share while it’s happening. It’s where the work feels the most honest—unfiltered and unresolved.
I don’t try to explain my paintings too much. They’re meant to be felt in a more personal way.
If something draws you in, there’s usually a reason for it.
—J