I’m interested in how love changes form, sound, texture — how it lives in bodies, gestures, glances — and how it dies, whether quietly or with a scream.

My work is an attempt to capture and preserve these transitional states — fleeting, yet deeply significant.

When a relationship holds its shape, but the content is gone?

What scares us most in love?

Humor helps me address pain, dependency, disillusionment — all the difficult emotions that often accompany love, especially as it begins to fade. It eases the fear of vulnerability and allows us to see ourselves from the outside.

hey are my way of navigating the world, of moving through life without fear and staying light on my feet. Through irony, I challenge the familiar narratives of love: the romanticizing of suffering, the idealization of sacrifice, the scripted roles where one saves and the other needs saving. What exactly becomes "normal" in love? And why do we keep repeating those patterns?

In my work, I seek to bring together emotional depth and playful perception. Because if love is what makes us feel alive, irony is what helps us stay sane. I believe art can be therapy, a mirror, and a point of entry into an honest conversation with ourselves.

Can love be lived differently — consciously, without self-deception, but still with ease and acceptance?

What remains — memory, form, attachment?

And what does it become when it’s gone?

How does it feel — in the body, in sound, in motion?

What does love look like when it’s present?