From The Studio / I

Most people don’t know what the figures I paint represent—perhaps they choose not to. In the place I live, art is often reduced to its aesthetic and plastic qualities. This isn’t a complaint; it’s simply the reality of the local perspective. The conceptual layer, the fragile structure behind the work, is often overlooked. And I’m not separate from this either; at times I also find myself colliding with the same aesthetic wall I try to move beyond.The figures I paint are bullies—bodies trapped within the idea of power. I break them apart, fragment their forms, and place inside them something they have never allowed themselves to feel: vulnerability. Throughout my life, I’ve been confronted by bullies—within family, school, and every in-between space. I spent years positioned as the “victim,” and that experience has become the core of what I create today.I’m not writing this to unload personal history. Rather, I want the work to be seen as something more than a polished text on a cold gallery wall. These figures carry a weight that goes far beyond composition and surface.The characters I depict are devoid of conscience; they abandoned fragility long ago, perhaps in childhood. Their social strength comes from their indifference—pain doesn’t register, emotions don’t root themselves. They move through life with an absence of empathy, building a universe centered entirely around “me,” erasing others in the process. They exist in everyone’s life: people without remorse, without morality, without an ethical spine.Why do I paint them?Because expression is central to my practice. Through writing, drawing, and painting, I build a small yet powerful world where I revisit the invisible systems that shaped my early life. The foundation of bullying is a refusal to care. By dissecting these figures, opening them up, fragmenting them, I expose a vulnerability they work endlessly to hide.