My art does not arise from a conscious decision, but from an inner need. For me, it is a way of arranging experiences, feelings, and contradictions that often remain difficult to grasp in everyday life. I am particularly interested in how personal experiences are connected to social structures: to questions of responsibility, visibility, care, and participation.

I work across different media, focusing on whichever medium feels most approachable in the moment. My artistic practice reflects on what is often taken for granted and opens a space in which vulnerability, absence, and connection can become visible. Through ME/CFS, I have come to understand how important connection is — and how painful its absence can be.

The reality of ME/CFS is shaped, for many affected people, by neglect, isolation, and a lack of medical care. My own social absence, caused by the illness, feels deeply degrading. I do not simply choose to make art; I have to, because I want to hold on to a life. Through my work, I find my way back to inner softness, to memory, and to a form of acceptance. At the same time, it gives me the possibility to criticize, reveal, and question.

My works are strongly autobiographical. They show the transition from a self- determined life to a state of needing full-time care, but also the social indifference that people with ME/CFS are confronted with every day. They are an appeal for justice and solidarity, but also a way to mourn people I had to lose, friends I can no longer see, and hours filled with pain. Art and the freedom of creating remind me how beautiful it can be to be human, and how important it is to remain human.