Color, for me, is never decorative—it is emotional, ancestral, and deeply symbolic. Each hue carries a history. Vermilion reminds me of rituals; ochre brings the dust of ancient temples; indigo carries the quiet strength of night.
When I paint, I don’t choose colors for how they look—I choose them for what they remember. Before opening a tube of paint, I pause and consider the emotion I want the work to hold: serenity, tension, resilience, longing. That feeling becomes the compass.
Often, I build color in translucent layers. This creates depth, like overlapping memories—some sharp, some fading, some returning unexpectedly. The vibrancy that emerges is not simply brightness; it is the result of stories stacking upon stories.
In this way, color becomes the true narrator of the painting. Even when forms are abstract, the hues speak clearly to anyone willing to linger.