About

I call this place Fine Art Studio, but in practice, I see myself more as a fisherman or a hunter than an artist. This is in the sense that art feels less like something I make and more like something I find. My main skill, then, is patience - to sit still and wait for as long as it takes. I find that eventually, the fish lands in the net, and that antelope finds its way into the field of vision.

But it wasn’t always so. I stumbled upon the arts purely by accident. In 2020, when I founded a corporate advisory firm, the business’s strategy centered on one question: What’s my vision for this business? I soon realized the business vision could not stand on its own—it had to be rooted in a deeper vision for my life. “What do I truly want from life?” gradually became “What is life and how did I find myself living it?” This enquiry pulled me inward with such force that the original business lost itself to insignificance.  

By this time, my former corporate career felt impossibly distant, as if I had become incompatible with it. In the spaces between contemplating what I was going to do for work now, I found myself reaching for a pencil—scribbling words, sketching shapes. Gradually, over a period of more than a year, the pencil made way for charcoal and then ink, watercolours and oils. Then one day I came across a verse by the 13th-century Persian poet, Rumi: