When I dedicate myself to the creative process, I enter a space that exists beyond constraints and guidelines. My art is concrete, not because it depicts something tangible, but because it concentrates on the essentials - on forms, colours, structures. I leave the outside world behind me and create a new order, one that conforms to my inner feelings and not to the rules of the outside world.

In this process, I feel a deep sense of liberation. Every stroke, every decision I make is an expression of myself. There are no predetermined paths, no barriers, just the freedom to express myself as I see fit. My hands guide me, but they are also guided by an inner will that I don't always fully understand, but which I trust.

However, this freedom is not just an escape, it is also a confrontation. With every work, I question myself: Who am I at this moment? What does it mean to create without the illusion of imitation? My art becomes a mirror of my self-determination, a dialogue between myself and what I am - or would like to be.

There are moments when the process is arduous, when clarity evaporates and doubts arise. But it is precisely in these moments that I find the strength to continue. Because I know that the search for the perfect form - however unattainable it may be - is the core of my self-realisation.

In the end, there is no final result, but rather a snapshot of my being, my freedom, my self. And while the world looks at and interprets this art, I know that ultimately it always remains a fragment of me - an expression of my self-determination, captured in form and colour.