Hey there! Welcome to my archive. This is where you can see how my art has developed throughout the different chapters of my life. These are selected works from my favourite old times, though all of them have since found new homes around the world.
I first picked up a palette knife when I was 20, and I’ve never really put it down. Those first years were a hard routine of try-and-fail, practicing up to 12 hours a day. I drew everything I could to develop my style—animals, people, and then sceneries, starting with the landscapes of China.
To my surprise, my work found success almost immediately. My Chinese scenery paintings were published in newspapers and magazines and found their way into a few important collections. From 2015 to 2018, I was mostly focused on historical scenes—Asian streets filled with red lanterns and wandering people. That was also the time I first developed my signature couple, always placed at the front of the scene.
In 2018, I signed a contract with an international gallery (yes, they found me on Instagram—back in 2016, I was just posting my art online!). My sceneries expanded to include Paris, Lyon, and Amsterdam, alongside my Hong Kong work, and were presented in galleries across those countries. This was my Europe scenes period, where I drew on the memories and atmosphere from my time living in Italy.
Then, in 2019, I moved to Hong Kong. I received a talent visa and officially became a Hong Kong-based artist. The HK skyline popped up in my mind constantly; I was outside sketching every day, then back in the studio painting, and exhibiting as much as possible. The Hong Kong landscape scenes brought back feelings I had missed—the blues of the water, the high mountains. It was like returning to childhood memories. My Hong Kong works found homes locally and as far away as America and Australia. I also painted other cities on commission, with Dubai, New York, and Sydney being the main ones that reflected my style.
From 2022, living in Sai Kung—a more remote, natural part of the city—I started to move away from straight lines, skyscrapers, and flashing lights. I felt a pull toward nature… but first, somehow related to the Psychology degree I was studying for, I started painting people in close-up. All the attention was on them. I entered a cycle where I painted fears, lies, and loneliness (I’ve kept those works for myself). This evolved into group scenes, which were exhibited in New York right after my residency there, where I was fascinated by people's psychology. This led to my themes “We All Live in a Bubble World” and “Religion” for my exhibitions in NY and Milan. I spent a lot of time in the studio during this period, also while pregnant—maybe that’s why my art from that time has so much gathering energy on the canvas.
For almost a year and a half, I felt away from art. After my daughter was born, she absorbed all of my time, and I willingly gave it to her. I didn't want to put her in anyone else's hands. Until she started walking, I was with her 24/7. It was a good time to put art in second place and just let that time pass by. But this gap slowly cleared away old things that didn't inspire me anymore. I spent so much time close to nature and close to my daughter, and that’s how I slowly absorbed my feelings into a new collection. I began placing people within these landscapes, and a new chapter in my visual language began.
My attention slowly shifted from the world around me to the world within. I began to see the landscape differently — not simply as a place, but as something that could reflect the inner life of the people in it. My figures became tiny against vast landscapes, almost disappearing into them. Yet the smaller they became, the more the world around them seemed to belong to them — carrying their thoughts, feelings, memories, and quiet moments. The landscape became more than a setting. It became their world.
I feel that my work now looks much closer to what I have always seen and wanted to express inside. From this point, I created 100 Notes to Myself — a collection of 100 paintings created over one year, each one growing from a personal note, observation or manifesto. By placing these intimate thoughts on canvas, I allowed what had once remained mine alone to be seen by others. The notes are personal, but they leave space for each viewer to recognise something of their own. For me, this is where the landscape becomes more than a place — it becomes a way of speaking about what is inside us.
If you look closely, you can see that my art — like the work of artists such as Picasso and Christian Dior — follows the path of a life: its experiences, thoughts, changes and turning points. This archive is the map of mine.
