The domestic interior is the central stage of my paintings: rooms, beds, vases, and windows opening toward distant landscapes. These spaces mirror the human psyche, containers for memory and absence, stillness and longing. For me, the home is not merely a physical place but an inner state, a space where comfort and anxiety, freedom and confinement, coexist.

The recurring act of looking out from behind a window traces back to my childhood, when I felt invisible boundaries and the quiet pressure to remain inside. In the traditional society where I grew up, the interior belonged mostly to women, while the outside world was reserved for men. This tension between being encouraged to stay in and yearning to step out created a lasting duality within me, one that still breathes through my work.

In the silence and muted colors of my canvases, among walls and everyday objects, womanhood, life, and remembrance take form. Painting becomes a threshold between inside and outside, between being seen and remaining unseen, a place where love and resentment, familiarity and estrangement, safety and limitation exist all at once.

The domestic interior is the central stage of my paintings: rooms, beds, vases, and windows opening toward distant landscapes. These spaces mirror the human psyche, containers for memory and absence, stillness and longing. For me, the home is not merely a physical place but an inner state, a space where comfort and anxiety, freedom and confinement, coexist.

The recurring act of looking out from behind a window traces back to my childhood, when I felt invisible boundaries and the quiet pressure to remain inside. In the traditional society where I grew up, the interior belonged mostly to women, while the outside world was reserved for men. This tension between being encouraged to stay in and yearning to step out created a lasting duality within me, one that still breathes through my work.

In the silence and muted colors of my canvases, among walls and everyday objects, womanhood, life, and remembrance take form. Painting becomes a threshold between inside and outside, between being seen and remaining unseen, a place where love and resentment, familiarity and estrangement, safety and limitation exist all at once.