In almost every one of my paintings, there is a gentle imprint —
a subtle vibration, a familiar curve, a light that doesn’t entirely belong to me.
Her name is Camille.

Camille is my partner, my agent, my mirror — and my muse.
Not in some mythical or distant sense. No.
Camille is here, close, every single day.
She is the gaze that questions with me, the breath that moves through my silences, the voice that tells me:
“It’s almost there. Keep going.”