I paint into books and magazines because I like the idea of joining a story that’s already in motion. There’s something exciting about not starting from scratch—responding instead to the images and text already on the page. I add bold portraits or tempting desserts with thick, expressive brushstrokes, vibrant colors, and sometimes messy drips or stains. It’s a way of pushing back against the polished, perfect look of the printed page and inserting something more human—more textured and emotional.
Sometimes I’m playing with what’s already there, sometimes I’m covering it up completely. But I always want the viewer to feel a bit of surprise—like the image doesn’t quite behave the way they expect. There’s a kind of joy in that tension between what’s found and what’s made. It’s playful, but it’s also serious: it’s about belonging, claiming space, and making something that feels real—innovating ingredients and recipes from the past into the future.