Art is my own form of meditation. Once I begin to draw, I transcend the every day, releasing my emotions, branding the paper with them. I draw for emotional catharsis. My mood shifts to one of wistfulness and contentment, and I enter an almost trance-like state, with my hand drawing almost of its own free will.
There is something almost hypnotic about the simple act of putting pen to paper. As my conscious mind is simply not fully aware of what’s happening, I’m operating on instinct and whim, and only vaguely remember the actual drawing process. When I near the end of a drawing, I slowly return to consciousness, which is similar to a slow but steady ascent from sleep to wakefulness.
I pour my soul over the paper as I’m drawing, and then when I’m finished, I pull my soul off the paper. What’s left behind is a visual representation of the inner workings of my being. That, combined with my natural tendency to work in high contrast with black ink on stark white paper, gives my works a look that is visually akin to fingerprints. Hence, I call my works ‘Soulprints.’