Edge
of Desire
Desire is not the destination.
It's the force that makes you leave home.
Photography, painting and fragments of personal history tracing the moments when desire becomes movement - and movement becomes art.
The space between
what we feel
and what we choose
Desire is rarely about arrival. It begins long before the journey. In a color that refuses to leave your mind. In a place you've never seen but already miss. In a person who quietly changes the direction of your life. Everything that follows — the photographs, the paintings, the landscapes — is simply evidence that desire once existed.
The project refuses to stay within one discipline. A photograph bleeds into a painting. A travel journal becomes a series of abstractions. A private emotion finds its shape in color and texture. This fluidity is intentional — desire itself does not respect boundaries.
Desire is not the destination. It's the force that makes us leave home.— Edge of Desire
Every chapter,
started long before I knew its name
Bali 2012-2013
Learning to See
Some journeys leave you with photographs. Others leave you with a different way of seeing. Bali was not the beginning of my travels. It was the beginning of my attention. It was the first time I understood that a photograph could hold more than a place. It could hold atmosphere, silence, longing, and the feeling that something ordinary had quietly become extraordinary. I never looked through a camera the same way again.
Argentina, 2014
Some colors become destinations
There are places you choose. And there are places that choose you. Argentina became an obsession long before I arrived. Not because of the country. But because of a color I couldn't imagine until I stood in front of it. From Patagonia to Buenos Aires, from Fitz Roy to Iguazu — this journey became more than a destination. It became the beginning of a new way of creating. The photographs found their own life. Awards followed. Publications followed. But none of them were the reason. The real gift was discovering that wonder could become a language.
Tropical House
The journey had already ended. The atmosphere hadn't.
This was the period when photographs dissolved into memory, music blurred into color, and places began existing somewhere between reality and imagination.
Some images were never meant to explain. Only to remind
Blue Me Away
Some shades of blue stay with you long after the moment has passed.
They appear in distant islands, where the ocean meets the sky, in waves that never break the same way twice, and in memories that quietly refuse to fade.
Without noticing, I began to follow that color. Across countries. Across coastlines. Across canvases. What started as a fleeting impression slowly became a language of it's own.
Every painting was another attmept to hold onto something that could never truly be held.
Gold Dust
Some moments don't disappear. They settle quietly, like dust catching the last light of the day.
By then, I wasn't trying to paint places anymore. I was painting what they left behind.
Warmth. Silence.
Rage
There are days that divide a life into before and after. Nothing changes on the surface. Everything changes underneath.
This body of work wasn't painted from anger alone. It came from hope breaking apart faster, than the heart could understand. From trying to hold on to finally letting go.
Higher Ground
Some answers don't arrive in conversations. They arrive one step at a time.
This chapter grew on mountain trails, ski slopes and long climbs, when breathing became louder than thinking.
Distance changed, so did perspective. The higher I went, the quieter everything became. Not because life grew easier. Because II finally stopped carrying what was never mine to begin with.
Rodrigo
This Chapter is still being written.
How desire becomes
art
Experience → Image
Every journey begins as lived experience. Sometimes it's a mountain, sometimes it's a conversation. Sometimes it's a single afternoon that refuses to disappear.
Memory → Color
Time removes the details. Color keeps the feeling. Long after plaes fade, their atmosphere remains.
Life → Art
Nothing here was created to document reality. Ever work begins with something lived and ends with something anyone can recognize as their own.
Every image is what remains after desire changes shape— Edge of Desire
Turning points
In the sea of people my eyes will always look for you
Looking back, I can't remember where the ocean ended and memory began. Perhaps they were always the same place.
- Medium
- Acrylic on canvas
- Dimensions
- 70 × 100 cm
- Year
- 2018
- Series
- Blue me away
The Edge of Awe
Wonder isn't loud.
It arrives quietly, in the moment you realize how small you are - and how lucky you are to witness it.
- Medium
- Photography
- Dimensions
- 200 × 60 cm
- Year
- 2014
- Series
- Borderlands
6 am at Central Java
Some mornings stay suspended in time. The air was still cool. The light arrived slowly, turning every palm into gold. Nothing extraordinary happened. Yet years later, this is the morning I still return to.
- Medium
- Mixed Media on Canvas
- Dimensions
- 100 × 120 cm
- Year
- 2024
- Series
- Gold Dust
Another works
Dissolution No. 3
2023 — Mixed Media
Threshold I
2024 — Oil on Print
Meridian (detail)
2024 — C-Type Print
Body Study VII
2023 — Film Photography
Afterglow (detail)
2024 — Mixed Media
Portrait as Landscape
2024 — Acrylic on Photo
Chromatic Field I
2024 — Oil on Canvas Nocturne VII
2025 — Long ExposureLet's start a
conversation
Open to exhibitions, commissions, collaborations, and any form of creative dialogue. If the work resonates — reach out.
