I was seven when the world opened up. My family moved to Africa, and for three years, I lived in the heat and heartbeat of a land that changed me. The air thrummed with wildness—cicadas in the trees, lions claiming the dusk, gazelles leaping like living brushstrokes. Nature wasn’t quiet there. It roared. It whispered. It welcomed. That raw, unfiltered connection to the animal world lit something inside me, something that still speaks through every brushstroke.

At the same time, I was growing up in the pages of fairy tales—where dragons and dreamers shared space, and creatures spoke the language of love. I lived in the space between the real and the magical, the wild and the wondrous. When I saw Edward Hicks’ The Peaceable Kingdom, where predator and prey rested side by side, something clicked into place: this is what I paint. Not fantasy, not realism—but the deeper truth underneath both. A truth where love softens the edges of instinct, and tenderness has power.

My paintings live in that world. They are quiet invitations into a realm where tigers look at you like old friends, flowers bloom from ruins, and connection transforms everything it touches. If you’ve ever longed for another world… if you’ve ever felt that love might still be the oldest, truest kind of magic—then you already belong here.