When I first began working on Crossed Paths, I didn’t set out to paint abstractly. I just wanted to express what I couldn’t quite put into words. Things like the tension of waiting, the uncertainty of connection, or the beauty of something that didn’t last. Over time, the emotions I wrote in my journal started to take shape as color, movement, and rhythm instead of clear images or figures. Abstraction became a way of speaking through feeling. Each curve, ribbon, and layered form carries traces of thought and emotion. These could be sometimes soft and fluid, or sometimes sharp and abrupt. They don’t tell a literal story, but they hold the energy of one, such as how it felt to hope, to reach, to release. For me, abstract shapes are not about hiding meaning but expanding it. They leave room for others to step inside the work with their own experiences. In this way, the paintings become shared spaces rather than private memories. In Crossed Paths, abstraction allows the story to unfold without boundaries. It transforms a personal moment into something universal, where color and form become a language of empathy and reflection.
