Statement

We stand at the threshold of a Singularity — a point at which technological progress accelerates exponentially, surpassing the biological limits of the human. In an age where every form of existential value is being translated into data, images and information circulate and replicate endlessly, yet nowhere is there anything tangible to hold. I am drawn to the fear, isolation, and above all the alienation that this environment of overproduction quietly generates. Alienation is not simply a rupture in relationship. It is the gradual sensation of being separated from the very world one inhabits — the condition of being connected yet unable to touch. This paradox, deepening precisely in an era when everything is networked, is perhaps the most universal yet most inarticulate experience of contemporary life. Rather than analyzing this alienation, I seek to explore it through visual language — to give form to what resists description.

My practice begins with direct, bodily encounters with specific places. Rather than simply collecting images, I return repeatedly to a site — walking it, dwelling in it, sensing it — and work only from what has been felt firsthand. The landscapes and objects that appear in my work are ones I have physically faced; artifacts and records gathered on-site sometimes extend into installation. Amid the incessant flood of virtual imagery, I select with extreme intentionality, painting only what I have directly confronted. This site-specific mode of working is an attempt to recover the sensory relationship between body and place that the digital environment has eroded.

These encounters with place accumulate into a body of work I call Color Palette Documentation. Spending time in cities and environments across the world, I have built color archives shaped by each location's natural surroundings, climate, objects, and streets. While residing in a place, I record the shifting quality of light, the objects I discover, and the hues inspired by the season, then carry these into my paintings, drawings, and installations. Each palette is an embodied spectrum — dense with the emotional register available only within that particular place. The act of recording and preserving color from a specific site is an attempt to capture, in color, a finite and singular sense of place, in resistance to the infinite, placeless terrain that the digital has constructed.

At the root of my chromatic sensibility lies childhood memory: the pinks that bloomed when Sailor Moon transformed, the lemon yellow that flashed like moonlight. Those colors on a television screen were almost too intense to belong to reality — their artificial beauty imprinted itself on my eyes in a way I could not quite name. The neon signs of the city were the same: dazzling, yet somehow hollow. I have never forgotten that sensation, and it resurfaces now in the fluorescent palettes that move across my surfaces. These vivid, artificial hues function as emotional devices — signaling alienation, unreality, and manufactured affect — and are placed in tension with bright pastel layers and deep, shadowed tones, generating the charged atmosphere of estrangement, emptiness, and ambiguity. The picture surface is flat. Layers of paint are built up and erased, but the work ultimately resolves into an even surface in which the density of process lies dormant beneath. Monochromatic or gradient backgrounds are set apart from and juxtaposed with object-images; the pictorial space of the background acts as a filter against the noise of the external world, a point at which physical time stands still. The canvas is not a window reflecting the world, but a space in which experience is rearranged, where emotion and memory intersect.

My work is a narrative of experience that cannot be reduced to information — an attempt to hold onto the direct sensations and encounters that the age of acceleration has rendered faint. I hope these works become sensory landmarks for those who feel connected yet unable to reach — a means of confirming one's own physical existence in the world.