My paintings are a collection of many observed moments—time spent in the presence of people, places, and objects familiar to me. The subjects, which include Tibetan motifs, everyday objects, and friends and family, are drawn from my immediate surroundings. In my work, you’ll find simplified tones, bold brushstrokes, and striking colors inspired by the Tibetan art I grew up around.

Each painting is an exercise in patience, translating time and space with brush and paint dabbed onto a canvas to reveal a picture that is still and intentional. This translation is not an imitative act; I am neither concerned with literalism nor mimesis when I paint from observation.

Painting, above all, is a kind of exploration—a medium of expression that allows me, a recluse, to speak through pictures that capture the objects of my interest and of my life. It is a slow process and a vulnerable kind of performance, being at the mercy of time and the subject before me. When I paint, I find myself reconciling the feeling of being both ridiculous and wondrous by the mere act of spending long hours fussing over lines, colors, and compositions while the world seems to move on without me.

Yet I still find myself exploring, being blissfully present to whom it may concern, in the joy of sharing a little magic, a little happiness, and my love since childhood of arranging colors and shapes in the right order to reveal a familiar world—even if it lasts for a brief moment. Perhaps by making an art of the menagerie of things I’ve nested my life with, I can nudge someone to appreciate the beauty of having been present and having been opened to the perspective of others.