We’ve muted our world into beige and gray, convincing ourselves it’s “elegant.” But nature has never been neutral. From the blue-ringed octopus to the painted streets of Bo-Kaap, color is survival, identity, and joy. So why are we stripping it away from our homes, our clothes, even our children’s toys? What happens when we bring color back — not just to our walls, but to our lives?

For years, my brushes have been dry—but I never stopped creating. I just didn’t realize my art had shifted forms. This blog is both a reflection and an invitation: to honor the silence, question the inner critic, and remember that not producing doesn’t mean not becoming. Sometimes, creativity hides in new rituals, whispered words, or a home-cooked meal. Sometimes, the canvas stays blank because something new is still growing beneath it.

Developing a personal style in abstract art isn’t about finding a formula—it’s about finding yourself. In this blog, I share my 30+ year journey of unlearning perfection, embracing emotion, and building a visual language rooted in intuition, ritual, and reflection. Whether you're just starting or seeking deeper connection in your work, this is your invitation to explore the art of becoming.

In a world racing toward automation and perfection, there’s power in the imperfect. That fingerprint left in your pottery? Keep it. The pet hair that dried in your wet paint? Maybe it’s part of the story now. That resin drip off the edge of your canvas you didn’t sand down? It’s yours—don’t erase it. Even a hidden symbol that only you and your true supporters recognize can become a secret signature—an artist’s version of a watermark.

This post explores how embracing our human touches—not just in the work itself, but in how we show up online—can be our quiet armor. Against mass production. Against AI imitation. Against erasure.

This reflection isn’t about belief—it’s about communication, trust, and the quiet cost of speaking honestly in a space that wasn’t ready to receive it. I’ve always welcomed sincere questions and thoughtful dialogue. What I didn’t expect was how quickly openness could feel unsafe in a place that promised otherwise.