Literati Painting

I did not become an artist by decision, but by revelation. It occurred during a journey through India, in the Himalayas, when my way of perceiving the world shifted. Objects ceased to be merely objects — they appeared as acts of creation. In that moment, I understood art not as an activity, but as a state of vision. My first lesson in painting lasted seven minutes. A single movement of the palette knife, the first black mark on a white canvas — and within that gesture, understanding arose. Not analytical, but immediate: knowledge grasped as a whole rather than explained. Since then, I paint. I do not seek inspiration, nor do I wait for it. I wait only for the condition of presence — to be alone with the canvas. Painting, for me, is not an act of expression, but an act of attention, where form emerges from silence and gesture precedes thought. This process is what I define as Eumancy — a state in which meaning unfolds through the act of making itself, rather than being imposed by intention. My abstract works approach nature not as landscape, but as process. Their layered structure reflects the coexistence of time — past, present, and potential occupying a single visual field. Painting is not a depiction of the world, but a way of breathing with it.