My journey as an artist began during the 2020 Covid lockdown. As a child, I was fascinated by ancient Greek and Roman culture. Later, my interest in philosophy led me back to the wisdom of the Stoics. By the time lockdown came, I had immersed myself in Stoic thought enough to put its lessons into practice. Faced with the same dark winter as the rest of the world, Stoicism gave me a framework to turn the obstacle to my advantage. With social life on pause, I chose to act on my long admiration for painting. When I laid the final brushstroke on my first canvas, I felt it in my bones: this was what I am meant to do.

What gives my work a unique angle is the combination of my background in brawny sports such as rowing and judo with the grace of painting. Creative pursuits are often seen as soft or nerdy; I aim to break that stereotype. Like the Stoic philosophers who drew wisdom from (combat) sports, I believe a strong mind requires a strong body. Of the Stoic virtues—wisdom, courage, justice, and self-discipline—it is courage and discipline that resonate most deeply with me. Courage, because it is no small thing to expose yourself on canvas for the world to see. Discipline, because realizing a vision takes time, study, and relentless practice.

Painting became my modern Stoic practice, a retreat from the distractions of daily life into the calm of my inner citadel. My aim is not just to find tranquility through art, but to share that sense of peace and joy with others through beauty.

For over a century, Western culture has wrestled with nihilism— the idea that life is meaningless. In more progressive circles, this is taken to the logical conclusion that our existence is also a burden on nature. This spiritual crisis leaves many unable to bear life’s suffering. I have struggled with this myself. Like many, I once sought relief in pleasure, in alcohol and drugs. But this numbs pain without curing it. After the pleasure fades, only the hangover remains. The truth is: only meaning is stronger than suffering.

In our arrogance, we have thrown away the meaning once provided by religion, when we declared that God is dead. Believing science alone could satisfy us. But the hunger for meaning remains. Where do we now find the weapons to face the tragedies of existence?

The answer lies in ancient wisdom and timeless action. The Stoics showed us how to cultivate resilience. The existentialists—Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, Sartre—urged us to act in the face of despair. Rational answers to nihilism fail because unchecked rationality is part of the problem. What works is to lose ourselves in beauty, a task, or helping others.

Inspired by these thinkers, my art celebrates the beauty in nature and humanity. Humans are as much a part of nature as any forest or river; we too are worthy of reverence and salvation.

Art can lift us out of our small selves by connecting us to something higher and eternal: beauty. Beauty is a necessity for the soul. It guides us toward meaning. But true beauty is not always gentle—it confronts us with our shortcomings and calls us to grow. It says: “You are not who you could be.”

If that challenge frightens you, it should. But if you are brave enough to let beauty illuminate your flaws and your potential, it will flow into every part of your life and help make it worth living.

Painting is how I fight my own struggle with nihilism and overthinking. Creating beauty and sharing joy is stronger than despair. My hope is that my work soothes, uplifts, and inspires—a momentary respite from the weight of modern life.