Nature is very prominent in my artwork, layered with the macabre splendor of decay. At first glance it might appear to be a simple creature, but once you look closer you’ll see something otherworldly, dreamlike and sometimes with an extra eye or two.


I was fortunate enough to attend a school with an admirable art department, where I hid most of the time. It was there that I learned the fundamental techniques and appreciation for all art, regardless of the medium. Thereafter I sharpened my claws in a graphic design college before venturing out into the rat-race.


Being born into a linear world driven by goals and time-constraints, living creatively can have its challenges, that’s why art is so important: it feeds the soul on a deeper level. It can heal emotional turmoil where traditional medicine fails; it opens a doorway to a world of imagination where you can find yourself; and it provides exquisite beauty where it resides. Art is a breath of colour in a stale world.


That is why I’ve always loved to make art. It elevated me in moments of happiness and enshrouded me protectively during darker times. My artwork stems from a childhood filled with wonder for fantastical creatures and a fascination with death. It wasn’t always bright and colourful; I’ve suffered through emotional abuse, post-traumatic stress, depression, and migraines. My creations were my protectors that would wrestle with my pain. Pain never goes away completely, but gazing into an artwork that speaks to you emotionally has all the power in the world to silence your demons and suspend you in quiet wonder. There’s been times when I completely stopped creating art. It was like being the living dead, with my soul cut away from me. My hands felt useless without the comforting forms of a pencil or a paintbrush. Subsequently I just kept on creating, even if was something as simple as a doodle.