I explore memory as an unstable construction — one that is not preserved from the past, but formed in the present.

My starting point is personal experience of loss. When my father died, my memories of him collapsed into photographs. Without those images, many moments would simply cease to exist. This led me to question the very nature of memory as a reliable witness.

I understand memory as the result of neural connections that reassemble lived experience anew each time. What I remember may differ from what others remember of the same moment. The past is not a fixed reality — it exists as a subjective, distorted reconstruction, seen through the lens of the self.

I embody this concept both technically and visually. Every work begins with a photograph I have taken — an attempt to capture a moment. I transfer the printed ink from the photograph onto canvas, peeling the image away from its original surface. What remains is a ghostly, partially destroyed impression — an image of a memory already slipping away.

Over that trace I paint and draw — in oil, acrylic, ink, pencil, and whatever the work demands. I distort and expand the image. My marks act as flashes of neural activity — sudden images, emotions, fragments. They conflict with the original photograph, transforming the moment.

Visually, my works unite realistic imagery with distorted, abstract structures. This reflects the very process of memory — shaped by loss and subjective interpretation.

Art becomes an act of resistance against disappearance — an attempt to hold what is escaping, with the inevitability of its distortion. The paintings themselves are an attempt to return memory to something physical, and to transform a static impression into a living interaction.