Art and dance have shaped my life since childhood. My early experiences of blindness, coupled with synesthesia, profoundly influenced my perception of the world and how I express emotions through art. The fear of being watched, intensified by technological advancements and personal experiences of online harassment, has become a central theme in my work. These experiences, alongside my background in ballet and modeling, have driven me to explore the complex interplay between vulnerability, connection, and the human condition.
Each piece I create is in shades of blue, a color that reflects both the delicate yet resilient nature of the Morpho butterfly and the profound depths of the ocean. These symbols represent the protective shields I’ve built to navigate life’s immense pressures and the joy I’ve discovered in the midst of these challenges. Through my art, I aim to transform these personal experiences into something tangible and beautiful, inviting viewers to reflect on their own journeys of fear, love, and resilience.
For a deeper dive into my story and the themes that shape my work, click "Read More".
Each piece I create is in shades of blue, a color that reflects both the delicate yet resilient nature of the Morpho butterfly and the profound depths of the ocean. These symbols represent the protective shields I’ve built to navigate life’s immense pressures and the joy I’ve discovered in the midst of these challenges. Through my art, I aim to transform these personal experiences into something tangible and beautiful, inviting viewers to reflect on their own journeys of fear, love, and resilience.
For a deeper dive into my story and the themes that shape my work, click "Read More".
Art and dance have shaped my life since childhood. My early experiences of blindness, coupled with synesthesia, profoundly influenced my perception of the world and how I express emotions through art. The fear of being watched, intensified by technological advancements and personal experiences of online harassment, has become a central theme in my work. These experiences, alongside my background in ballet and modeling, have driven me to explore the complex interplay between vulnerability, connection, and the human condition.
Each piece I create is in shades of blue, a color that reflects both the delicate yet resilient nature of the Morpho butterfly and the profound depths of the ocean. These symbols represent the protective shields I’ve built to navigate life’s immense pressures and the joy I’ve discovered in the midst of these challenges. Through my art, I aim to transform these personal experiences into something tangible and beautiful, inviting viewers to reflect on their own journeys of fear, love, and resilience.
For a deeper dive into my story and the themes that shape my work, click "Read More".
Each piece I create is in shades of blue, a color that reflects both the delicate yet resilient nature of the Morpho butterfly and the profound depths of the ocean. These symbols represent the protective shields I’ve built to navigate life’s immense pressures and the joy I’ve discovered in the midst of these challenges. Through my art, I aim to transform these personal experiences into something tangible and beautiful, inviting viewers to reflect on their own journeys of fear, love, and resilience.
For a deeper dive into my story and the themes that shape my work, click "Read More".
Art and dance have shaped my life since childhood.
My early experiences of blindness, coupled with synesthesia, profoundly influenced my perception of the world and how I express emotions
My early experiences of blindness, coupled with synesthesia, profoundly influenced my perception of the world and how I express emotions
Each piece I create is in shades of blue, a color that reflects both the delicate yet resilient nature of the Morpho butterfly and the profound depths of the ocean. These symbols represent the protective shields I’ve built to navigate life’s immense pressures and the joy I’ve discovered in the midst of these challenges. Through my art, I aim to transform these personal experiences into something tangible and beautiful, inviting viewers to reflect on their own journeys of fear, love, and resilience.
For a deeper dive into my story and the themes that shape my work:
For a deeper dive into my story and the themes that shape my work:
through art. The fear of being watched, intensified by technological advancements and personal experiences of online harassment, has become a central theme in my work. These experiences, alongside my background in ballet and modeling, have driven me to explore the complex interplay between vulnerability, connection, and the human condition.
Art and dance have always been central to my life. Recognizing this early on, my parents enrolled me in art school and dance classes, where I spent years refining my skills in painting and ballet.
Art and dance have always been central to my life. Recognizing this early on, my parents enrolled me in art school and dance classes, where I spent years refining my skills in painting and ballet.
Art and dance have always been central to my life. Recognizing this early on, my parents enrolled me in art school and dance classes, where I spent years refining my skills in painting and ballet.
At the age of five, my life changed dramatically when I lost my sight for several months due to a neuroinfection. This sudden blindness took away my ability to express myself in the ways I had come to love — painting and dancing.
No longer able to see the world around me, I was unable to draw or move with confidence in space, as the boundaries of the room became uncertain and the once-familiar became foreign and inaccessible. Now, I understand how isolating and hard it is being blind; during this time, synesthesia manifested, and I sometimes still see different people’s voices in colors.
This unique perspective shapes how I depict the interplay of connection in my work.
No longer able to see the world around me, I was unable to draw or move with confidence in space, as the boundaries of the room became uncertain and the once-familiar became foreign and inaccessible. Now, I understand how isolating and hard it is being blind; during this time, synesthesia manifested, and I sometimes still see different people’s voices in colors.
This unique perspective shapes how I depict the interplay of connection in my work.
At the age of five, my life changed dramatically when I lost my sight for several months due to a neuroinfection. This sudden blindness took away my ability to express myself in the ways I had come to love
— painting and dancing. No longer able to see the world around me, I was unable to draw or move with confidence in space, as the boundaries of the room became uncertain and the once-familiar became foreign and inaccessible. Now, I understand how isolating and hard it is being blind; during this time, synesthesia manifested, and I sometimes still see different people’s voices in colors.
This unique perspective shapes how I depict the interplay of connection in my work.
This unique perspective shapes how I depict the interplay of connection in my work.
During those months of darkness, I became intensely aware of the sensation of being watched—a feeling that has stayed with me ever since.
The fear of unseen eyes, of the unknown lurking just beyond my reach, became a haunting presence in my life and a core element of my art. I often felt as though there were eyes hidden in the walls, silently observing me, even when no one was there. As surveillance technology advanced, this fear intensified, especially during my time in Asia, where I often felt targeted by men trying to take photos in public places.
With cameras now everywhere, my work reflects this anxiety of being watched without knowing who is watching or where they are, paired with a simultaneous desire to be seen — just by someone safe, caring, and gentle.
The fear of unseen eyes, of the unknown lurking just beyond my reach, became a haunting presence in my life and a core element of my art. I often felt as though there were eyes hidden in the walls, silently observing me, even when no one was there. As surveillance technology advanced, this fear intensified, especially during my time in Asia, where I often felt targeted by men trying to take photos in public places.
With cameras now everywhere, my work reflects this anxiety of being watched without knowing who is watching or where they are, paired with a simultaneous desire to be seen — just by someone safe, caring, and gentle.
During those months of darkness, I became intensely aware of the sensation of being watched—a feeling that has stayed with me ever since. The fear of unseen eyes, of the unknown lurking just beyond my reach,
became a haunting presence in my life and a core element of my art. I often felt as though there were eyes hidden in the walls, silently observing me, even when no one was there. As surveillance technology advanced, this fear intensified, especially during my time in Asia, where I often felt targeted by men trying to take photos in public places.
With cameras now everywhere, my work reflects this anxiety of being watched without knowing who is watching or where they are, paired with a simultaneous desire to be seen — just by someone safe, caring, and gentle.
With cameras now everywhere, my work reflects this anxiety of being watched without knowing who is watching or where they are, paired with a simultaneous desire to be seen — just by someone safe, caring, and gentle.
As I entered my teenage years, I encountered the darker aspects of the digital world. I became increasingly aware of how damaging the online world could be for teenagers, witnessing the impact of bullying and rejection.
This realization hit home when I was also anonymously threatened and pressured to share personal photos online. It was frightening to realize how people could hide behind usernames and say anything without consequence. When I shared these experiences with my classmates, someone I knew likely took it further.
I began receiving messages with specific details — my address, the times I left school, and even what I was wearing. This escalation was terrifying, showing how easily someone could exploit your fears and invade your personal space, even from behind a screen. These experiences of being objectified and threatened intensified my fear of being seen and deeply influence my current work.
This realization hit home when I was also anonymously threatened and pressured to share personal photos online. It was frightening to realize how people could hide behind usernames and say anything without consequence. When I shared these experiences with my classmates, someone I knew likely took it further.
I began receiving messages with specific details — my address, the times I left school, and even what I was wearing. This escalation was terrifying, showing how easily someone could exploit your fears and invade your personal space, even from behind a screen. These experiences of being objectified and threatened intensified my fear of being seen and deeply influence my current work.
As I entered my teenage years, I encountered the darker aspects of the digital world. I became increasingly aware of how damaging the online world could be for teenagers, witnessing the impact of bullying and rejection.
This realization hit home when I was also anonymously threatened and pressured to share personal photos online. It was frightening to realize how people could hide behind usernames and say anything without consequence.
When I shared these experiences with my classmates, someone I knew likely took it further.
I began receiving messages with specific details — my address, the times I left school, and even what I was wearing. This escalation was terrifying, showing how easily someone could exploit your fears and invade your personal space, even from behind a screen. These experiences of being objectified and threatened intensified my fear of being seen and deeply influence my current work.
I began receiving messages with specific details — my address, the times I left school, and even what I was wearing. This escalation was terrifying, showing how easily someone could exploit your fears and invade your personal space, even from behind a screen. These experiences of being objectified and threatened intensified my fear of being seen and deeply influence my current work.
My experiences of fear and vulnerability, compounded by my early work as a child model, deepened my understanding of the complex dynamics of human emotion and connection. Additionally, my background in ballet taught me how beauty and pain often coexist — the discipline, the constant push against physical limits, and the pursuit of perfection all come with a price.
This duality of grace and suffering is a significant theme in my work, where I explore how something as beautiful as ballet can also embody pain. As I grew and faced new challenges, my art evolved from expressions of beauty to profound explorations of the human condition, driven by the experiences that shaped me.
This duality of grace and suffering is a significant theme in my work, where I explore how something as beautiful as ballet can also embody pain. As I grew and faced new challenges, my art evolved from expressions of beauty to profound explorations of the human condition, driven by the experiences that shaped me.
My experiences of fear and vulnerability, compounded by my early work as a child model, deepened my understanding of the complex dynamics of human emotion and connection.
Additionally, my background in ballet taught me how beauty and pain often coexist — the discipline, the constant push against physical limits, and the pursuit of perfection all come with a price.
This duality of grace and suffering is a significant theme in my work, where I explore how something as beautiful as ballet can also embody pain. As I grew and faced new challenges, my art evolved from expressions of beauty to profound explorations of the human condition, driven by the experiences that shaped me.
This duality of grace and suffering is a significant theme in my work, where I explore how something as beautiful as ballet can also embody pain. As I grew and faced new challenges, my art evolved from expressions of beauty to profound explorations of the human condition, driven by the experiences that shaped me.
In my art, I often explore the importance of physical touch in relationships.
Touch represents both the comfort and connection we seek with others, as well as the complexities and contradictions inherent in those connections. It’s about the longing for closeness while simultaneously desiring personal space, the warmth of affection mixed with the fear of dependency.
My work delves into these nuances, reflecting on how touch can be both healing and hurtful, encompassing love, friendship, tenderness, as well as jealousy and resentment.
I greatly appreciate organizations that help blind children with attachment and therapy for teenagers, as I have witnessed many heartbroken kids. I have also done extensive volunteering in my country and many others.
Touch represents both the comfort and connection we seek with others, as well as the complexities and contradictions inherent in those connections. It’s about the longing for closeness while simultaneously desiring personal space, the warmth of affection mixed with the fear of dependency.
My work delves into these nuances, reflecting on how touch can be both healing and hurtful, encompassing love, friendship, tenderness, as well as jealousy and resentment.
I greatly appreciate organizations that help blind children with attachment and therapy for teenagers, as I have witnessed many heartbroken kids. I have also done extensive volunteering in my country and many others.
In my art, I often explore the importance of physical touch in relationships.
Touch represents both the comfort and connection we seek with others, as well as the complexities and contradictions inherent
Touch represents both the comfort and connection we seek with others, as well as the complexities and contradictions inherent
in those connections. It’s about the longing for closeness while simultaneously desiring personal space, the warmth of affection mixed with the fear of dependency.
My work delves into these nuances, reflecting on how touch can be both healing and hurtful, encompassing love, friendship, tenderness, as well as jealousy and resentment.
I greatly appreciate organizations that help blind children with attachment and therapy for teenagers, as I have witnessed many heartbroken kids. I have also done extensive volunteering in my country and many others.
My work delves into these nuances, reflecting on how touch can be both healing and hurtful, encompassing love, friendship, tenderness, as well as jealousy and resentment.
I greatly appreciate organizations that help blind children with attachment and therapy for teenagers, as I have witnessed many heartbroken kids. I have also done extensive volunteering in my country and many others.
Each piece is created exclusively in shades of blue, a color that symbolizes my experiences and emotions. In biology, Morpho amathonte refers to a tiny, amazingly beautiful butterfly living in tropical forests. Its special feature is its vibrant blue wings that serve as a defense mechanism, reflecting only the blue aspect of sunlight to confuse predators, shining blue and using it to blend into the sky, disappearing with each flap of its wings. This allows this delicate creature to survive amidst wild birds and mammals.
Each piece is created exclusively in shades of blue, a color that symbolizes my experiences and emotions. In biology, Morpho amathonte refers to a tiny, amazingly beautiful butterfly living in tropical forests. Its special feature is its vibrant blue wings that serve as a defense mechanism, reflecting only the blue aspect of sunlight to confuse predators, shining blue and using it to blend into the sky, disappearing with each flap of its wings. This allows this delicate creature to survive amidst wild birds and mammals.
This allows this delicate creature to survive amidst wild birds and mammals. I, like this butterfly, mask my emotions under a layer of something both protective and beautiful to deal with the dangers I’ve faced. I will start to use blue as just one of many other colors only when I feel safe enough to lower my defenses and freely grow.
One of my favorite experiences on this planet is being in the ocean, submerged beneath the waves. My deep love for the sea and ocean is central to my artistic expression. These waters, much like me, are hard to love and hard not to love — capricious, emotional, and ever-changing. The sea’s embrace can be gentle and warm one moment, and in the next, it can transform into a storm, mirroring the emotional tides I navigate. The allure of the underwater world, with its bright corals and vibrant fish, is irresistibly enticing. You want to go deeper and deeper,
One of my favorite experiences on this planet is being in the ocean, submerged beneath the waves. My deep love for the sea and ocean is central to my artistic expression. These waters, much like me, are hard to love and hard not to love — capricious, emotional, and ever-changing. The sea’s embrace can be gentle and warm one moment, and in the next, it can transform into a storm, mirroring the emotional tides I navigate. The allure of the underwater world, with its bright corals and vibrant fish, is irresistibly enticing. You want to go deeper and deeper,
but as you immerse yourself in this magical world, you increasingly feel the pressure of the water above you. The deeper you go into the ocean, the more everything turns blue due to the absorption of other colors by water. This deep blue represents the immense pressure I’ve felt in life — emotionally and mentally — while still finding joy in all aspects of existence.
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
This allows this delicate creature to survive amidst wild birds and mammals. I, like this butterfly, mask my emotions under a layer of something both protective and beautiful to deal with the dangers I’ve faced. I will start to use blue as just one of many other colors only when I feel safe enough to lower my defenses and freely grow.
One of my favorite experiences on this planet is being in the ocean, submerged beneath the waves. My deep love for the sea and ocean is central to my artistic expression. These waters, much like me, are hard to love and hard not to
One of my favorite experiences on this planet is being in the ocean, submerged beneath the waves. My deep love for the sea and ocean is central to my artistic expression. These waters, much like me, are hard to love and hard not to
love — capricious, emotional, and ever-changing. The sea’s embrace can be gentle and warm one moment, and in the next, it can transform into a storm, mirroring the emotional tides I navigate. The allure of the underwater world, with its bright corals and vibrant fish, is irresistibly enticing. You want to go deeper and deeper, but as you immerse yourself in this magical world, you increasingly feel the pressure of the water above you. The deeper you go into the ocean, the more everything turns blue due to the absorption of other colors by water. This deep blue represents the immense pressure I’ve felt in life — emotionally and mentally — while still finding joy in all aspects of existence.
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
I, like this butterfly, mask my emotions under a layer of something both protective and beautiful to deal with the dangers I’ve faced. I will start to use blue as just one of many other colors only when I
like me, are hard to love and hard not to love — capricious, emotional, and ever-changing. The sea’s embrace can be gentle and warm one moment, and in the next, it can transform into a storm, mirroring the emotional tides I navigate. The allure of the underwater world, with its bright corals and vibrant fish, is irresistibly enticing. You want to go deeper and deeper, but as you immerse yourself in this magical world, you increasingly feel the pressure of the water above you. The deeper you go into the ocean, the more everything turns blue due to the absorption of other colors by water. This deep blue represents the immense pressure I’ve felt in life — emotionally and mentally — while still finding joy in all aspects of existence.
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
feel safe enough to lower my defenses and freely grow.
One of my favorite experiences on this planet is being in the ocean, submerged beneath the waves. My deep love for the sea and ocean is central to my artistic expression. These waters, much
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
Through my work, I invite you not only to reflect on your own experiences and emotions but to join me in supporting those who, like me, have faced challenges of isolation and vulnerability. Together, we can turn our shared experiences into strength and understanding.
Art has been my refuge and my voice, allowing me to transform fear and pain into something tangible, something beautiful. My hope is that my art not only resonates with you but also encourages you to reflect on your own experiences, emotions, and connections. In engaging with my pieces, I hope you find a space to contemplate the beauty and pain that shape our lives, just as they have shaped mine.
Through my work, I invite you not only to reflect on your own experiences and emotions but to join me in supporting those who, like me, have faced challenges of isolation and vulnerability. Together, we can turn our shared experiences into strength and understanding.
Art has been my refuge and my voice, allowing me to transform fear and pain into something tangible, something beautiful. My hope is that my art not only resonates with you but also encourages you to reflect on your own experiences, emotions, and connections. In engaging with my pieces, I hope you find a space to contemplate the beauty and pain that shape our lives, just as they have shaped mine.
Shared with the support of my friends,
With love, Aria
Blue light also disrupts circadian rhythms and melatonin production, which mirrors the fact that most, if not all, of my artworks are created at night. These are the hours when thoughts and emotions swirl too
intensely to allow sleep, driving me to express them on canvas. For the past five years, I’ve been drawing exclusively in blue, with only a few black-and-white sketches as exceptions. I have decided that I will not start using any other color until I feel safe enough — safe enough to grow, make mistakes and be sure that everything is going to be ok.
Through my work, I invite you not only to reflect on your own experiences and emotions but to join me in supporting those who, like me, have faced challenges of isolation and vulnerability. Together, we can turn our shared experiences into strength and understanding.
Art has been my refuge and my voice, allowing me to transform fear and pain into something tangible, something beautiful. My hope is that my art not only resonates with you but also encourages you to reflect on your own experiences, emotions, and connections. In engaging with my pieces, I hope you find a space to contemplate the beauty and pain that shape our lives, just as they have shaped mine.
Through my work, I invite you not only to reflect on your own experiences and emotions but to join me in supporting those who, like me, have faced challenges of isolation and vulnerability. Together, we can turn our shared experiences into strength and understanding.
Art has been my refuge and my voice, allowing me to transform fear and pain into something tangible, something beautiful. My hope is that my art not only resonates with you but also encourages you to reflect on your own experiences, emotions, and connections. In engaging with my pieces, I hope you find a space to contemplate the beauty and pain that shape our lives, just as they have shaped mine.
Shared with the support of my friends,
With love, Aria
With love, Aria