Wearenotseparate.Wearethemanyformsofonelivingwhole.

Intuitive Geometry of the Body

Careful observation and cross-hatched shadow reveal the disciplined line that still runs beneath my later fantasy and color.

Stromae

In April 2015, shortly before I turned twenty, I drew this portrait on a single sheet of lightweight A4 paper using graphite pencil, colored pencils, and a fineliner.

Velvet Goldmine

At nineteen, I was fascinated by Christian Bale’s work. I made this portrait study with colored pencils on an ordinary sheet of A4 paper.

On Both Sides of Myself

At eighteen, this drawing became one of my first breakthroughs into imagination. Without consciously intending it, I filled the image with symbols—perhaps an early expression of the intuitive way I think. The central portrait was based on Marlene Dietrich.

Perception of the Subtle Plane

At twenty, I made this work on an ordinary sheet of sketchbook paper using markers and a black fineliner. With no preliminary drawing or sketch, I tried to bring my inner space onto the page through visual, intuitive observation of what lies hidden within the very structure of the world. Here, lines become a way of perceiving energy: by tuning in to its wave, I can sense it almost physically without touching it. I still love intuitive drawing—a practice I approached one drawing at a time.

Mother in the Night

To feel the lines. The connections. To see volume and depth. To notice the details that make a person singular: fire in the eyes, a keen gaze, the blush in the cheeks. I think—or hope—you have formed an impression of the person dearest to me. Let us believe I managed to catch that inward spark: so different from one person to another.

Disruptor of the Subconscious’s Inner Stillness

At first, I simply wanted to draw cats of different breeds. Then I began to connect them through pyramids and an ancient Egyptian visual language—an allusion to the cat’s sacred association with the goddess Bastet. The central cat’s eyes held a deep fear; placing an aggressive dog nearby gave that feeling more force, and brought the eyes decisively to the foreground. Those eyes, looking through visible space, became the work’s calling card. They seem to look into the depths of your soul—do they not?

Synchronous Symmetries of Timelessness

Time exists only while you are watching it—while you remain outside yourself, absorbed in every possible distraction from the source. But the moment you return home, to yourself—just like that—it disappears. You become so calm, so at peace, that you do not want to leave that paradise corner of your soul. But time calls…

Those Who See Through Illusions

A small, self-contained group stands on what feels like a miniature Earth. Their eyes are not natural: there are no pupils. Perhaps their sight is different from ours—not detailed, but expansive, taking in the whole image at once. A point of view. A scale of seeing. There are only a few of them for now, but if others who see in a similar way join them, perhaps their piece of Earth will slowly widen—until it can perceive the whole universe rather than a single point called Earth.

Spacetime Sushi

Have you ever dreamed of something that could delight you almost indefinitely? What if it were your favorite sushi? You do not have to eat it. These sushi exist outside the ordinary laws of dinner: they do not run out, lose their form, or leave their place. And they may even answer two fundamental questions of spacetime: “Where?” and “When?” Spacetime Sushi is a small attempt to turn an ordinary moment into something lasting—because sometimes eternity begins with the simplest things.

A Visit to a Fairy-Tale Appetite

Watercolor, colored pencils, colored fineliners—and a passionate desire to eat well. I gave this work to my father, and for almost ten years it has held an honored place in his kitchen. While drawing it, I wanted the impossible: to convey not only the color and appearance of food, but its smell. To make the dishes so appetizing that the viewer might almost want to reach out and taste them. So—how is your salivation doing?

Young at Heart, with a Sparkle in the Eyes — Is That Not Enough?

My grandmother and grandfather are still young. What has changed? Before me are the same people I saw forty-five years ago, at the time of their engagement. Only, for some reason, time has decided to interfere a little with their appearance. I like to think that time is given to us partly so that one day we might question it. The trick works with the temporary body: it changes, ages, and rather convincingly tells us that the years are passing. But will it work with our inner substance—with that inner self we might more truly identify with? If it is still young, and that sparkle remains in the eyes—is that not enough?

Mother Teresa