My ultimate state of being is lying on a forest floor—fingers and toes digging into the earth, longing to be swallowed whole, yearning for a time when humanity was one with nature.

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My connection to nature has always inspired my work. As a little girl I spent endless hours outdoors, believing I could talk to trees—and, if I’m honest, I sometimes still do, though I now understand it’s not the trees themselves speaking. I used to dance with the wind as if it were an entity. Even now, nature—especially trees, mountains, fields, streams, wind, and rain—is where I feel safest and most free. These elements, or their symbolic representations, are woven throughout my art. As an adult, I still escape to the mountains, sometimes barefoot, seeking that divine connection I knew as a child. And often, I find it—especially when the wind rushes through the leaves in whispered voices, reminding me that the trees are still speaking.

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Lately, my artistic process has become a journey inward—a way of reaching my own internal landscape. Through meditative making, I surrender fully to my inner realm, engaging in a mindful, intuitive exploration. Charcoal, my primary medium, connects me to the ancient cave painters. There is a purity in charcoal that few other mediums possess—raw, primal, and deeply expressive.