In the world of contemporary art, one recurring question I often hear is: "Are these self-portraits?"

The women in my paintings bear an undeniable resemblance to me: physically, emotionally, spiritually. And the answer is both simple and deeply intimate: yes, I am my own muse.

My creative process begins within. Every canvas is a ritual of shadow work, a way of confronting and embracing parts of myself that are raw, unfiltered, and often hidden. Dark femininity, with all its power, rebellion, sensuality, and rage, flows through the figures I paint. My art isn't just about beauty; it’s about emotional truth and radical self-acceptance.

At first, using myself as a model was practical. Much of my work explores sensual art and emotional openness. Asking someone else to step into that vulnerability meant navigating trust, contracts, and consent. One day, I asked myself: why not turn the lens inward?

There’s a unique liberation in painting myself, especially in the context of erotic art. I no longer need to direct someone else to pose a certain way or embody a certain mood. I know exactly how it feels, and I can express it from within. Whether it's defiant softness, bratty boldness, or raw erotic energy, the body becomes a canvas of feeling.

In some ways, I am like a living archive of classic and rebellious beauty, my features a blend of timeless femininity and unapologetic self-expression. This duality fuels my work.

When I paint others (particularly men) emotional resonance is everything. I've painted close friends whose presence sparked something powerful in me, and the process was effortless. But when I've painted people who were conventionally "perfect" but emotionally distant, the results felt hollow. The painting resisted me.
Inspiration isn’t about perfection; it’s about connection.

Whether it's a lover, a stranger in a film still, or a fleeting gesture from a paused video. If it stirs something in me, I follow it. I often blend found footage, old photographs, and screenshots to create compositions that feel emotionally alive

Commissioned paintings offer a different kind of creative challenge. They shift the focus from internal exploration to collaboration. I step into another person’s vision while weaving in my own visual language, through brushstroke, color, and feeling. Even in this space, where I'm painting someone else's story, my emotional fingerprint remains.

Ultimately, my art is an ongoing act of emotional translation, a visual language shaped by ADHD impulsivity, sensual embodiment, and the practice of radical honesty. It lives somewhere between the erotic and the sacred, the wild and the soft.

I paint myself not out of vanity, but out of necessity. I am my most honest subject. Through this recurring mirror, I discover new versions of myself. Every version valid, every version worthy.

Because without that spark, that pull, that internal whisper of “yes, this is what I feel,” the canvas stays silent.