How to Tell You
Like my father, I've always struggled to say out loud what I'm feeling.
Some emotions are too tender for conversation. Too complex for words. They settle quietly between my heart and my hands, waiting for another way to be heard.
Art became that language.
With every torn piece of paper, every layer, every mark, I say the things I cannot always speak. The canvas listens without interruption. It holds my questions, my love, my longing, and my hope.
And still, so much remains unsaid.
Perhaps that's the nature of love and of art. We keep searching for the words, knowing they will never tell the whole story. So instead, I make landscapes that speak for me.
This PaperScape is my way of asking the question I have carried for so long:
How do I tell you what lives in my heart?
How to Tell You
Like my father, I've always struggled to say out loud what I'm feeling.
Some emotions are too tender for conversation. Too complex for words. They settle quietly between my heart and my hands, waiting for another way to be heard.
Art became that language.
With every torn piece of paper, every layer, every mark, I say the things I cannot always speak. The canvas listens without interruption. It holds my questions, my love, my longing, and my hope.
And still, so much remains unsaid.
Perhaps that's the nature of love and of art. We keep searching for the words, knowing they will never tell the whole story. So instead, I make landscapes that speak for me.
This PaperScape is my way of asking the question I have carried for so long:
How do I tell you what lives in my heart?
