Why I Paint: My Journey as an Artist

I wasn’t born with a brush in my hand. I didn’t always know I’d be an artist. But somewhere along the way, painting became my language—my way of listening to the world, and of being heard without saying a single word.

 

The Beginning: A Quiet Curiosity

As a child, I was drawn to colors, textures, and silence. While others played outside, I found peace in observing—sunlight through a curtain, the patterns on a cracked wall, the way shadows stretched in the afternoon. I didn’t realize it then, but art was already shaping my eyes.

My early experiments with drawing and color were not guided by rules or techniques. I didn’t have formal training—I just followed the urge to create. For a long time, I didn’t even call myself an artist. I was just someone who felt more whole while painting.

 

The Turning Point: Art as Emotion

It wasn’t until later in life—during a period of emotional unrest—that painting became more than just a creative outlet. It became a way to cope, release, and heal.

That’s when I began painting abstracts. Not because I planned to. But because realism couldn’t contain what I was feeling. Abstract art allowed me to pour my emotions freely—without needing to explain them.

There was no sketch. No subject. Just color and emotion. A brush, a canvas, and me—lost in the moment. That’s how my true style found me.

Why I Paint the Way I Do

I never begin with a concept. I let the painting reveal itself. I start with a color that reflects how I feel, and from there, I build. Some days, the strokes are bold and heavy. Other days, soft and hesitant. My paintings are, in many ways, diaries without words.

They are not meant to be understood—they are meant to be felt.

 

What Inspires Me

It’s not just emotions. I’m inspired by silence, solitude, nature, music, and the quiet stories people carry in their eyes. I’m also inspired by my own inner changes—how I see the world differently with time.

Artists like Mark Rothko and V.S. Gaitonde made me fall deeper in love with abstraction. Not because of their fame—but because their work had space in it. Space to feel. To breathe. To get lost.

What Painting Has Given Me

Painting has given me presence. In a world that moves too fast, art slows me down. It lets me be honest. It lets me process pain, joy, grief, and hope—without needing to speak.

It’s also given me connection. Every time someone tells me how a painting made them feel something—even if it’s different from what I felt—that’s a moment of shared humanity.

 

Final Thoughts

I paint because I have to. Because there are parts of me that only a canvas can hold. Painting is not just what I do—it’s how I live.

So when you look at my work, know this: you’re not just seeing colors and shapes. You’re seeing a moment of my life, captured in silence.