The grid, a centuries-old symbol of human efforts to map and structure the world, appears often in my paintings. Rather than a calculated inclusion, it is a reclaimed, personal, and imperfect mark that operates at the intersection of order and intuition, control and freedom.


My fascination lies in the grid's dual nature as both a motif and a method. Each variation, from scratching (excavation, memory) to drawing over (mapping, presence) to hard-edge painting (assertion, architecture) explores different ways of engaging the surface and touching time.

How does the structure of the city translate into the language of emotion and everyday living experiences?


The ladder-like or train-like scribble feels like movement and possibility. When paired with the grid, it shifts from stillness to motion, forming a dialogue between containment and passage, adding a sense of direction and narrative pathway to the surface.