The creator behind the icons…

For me, icon painting is a way of expressing what is often difficult to put into words. I draw inspiration from the Byzantine tradition while seeking my own personal expression within it, paying particular attention to the faces and, above all, the gaze.
I love the tenderness, warmth and innocence of small creatures and animals. Sparrows nestled together, butterflies, tiny turtles, deer and other creatures of nature often find their place in my icons. Through their presence, I seek to express the connection of every creature—and of nature as a whole—with our Creator, our God and Father. I want my work to be imbued with a sense of fatherly tenderness, motherly love and comfort.

I want my icons to be a refuge, not simply beautiful images.

An icon that looks into your soul. One that, when you stand before it, makes you want to speak to it, find a quiet corner to pray and open your heart. An icon that can ease bitterness, soften anger and leave you with a little more peace and comfort.

How my icons come to life

My love for the saints, and the innocence, gentleness and virtue I see in their faces, drew me almost instinctively to this art form. I deeply respect the Byzantine tradition and draw inspiration from it, without trying to confine my painting to any single style. In my icons, I also make space for my own personal expression, each time seeking the best way to convey what I feel.

My intention is not to challenge or distort the Orthodox tradition or the Byzantine artistic tradition, nor to provoke or create division among Christians. My works are personal, hand-painted artistic creations inspired by faith and Christian art; they do not claim ecclesiastical or doctrinal authority. I choose to portray faces with expressive, vivid and compassionate eyes because this is how I feel I can convey tenderness, comfort and love. I respect the different Christian traditions and sensitivities, and I create each piece with sincere intentions, love and respect.

I often paint when I carry a feeling within me that I find difficult to express in words. Sometimes I paint from a place of joy, and sometimes during difficult moments. At such times, the creative process becomes a small world where I can take refuge, step away for a while from what weighs on me and turn more deeply towards prayer. The very subject matter of the icons naturally draws me towards it.

For me, every brushstroke is a small prayer to God.
Icon painting is deeply personal to me—a treasure into which I pour a piece of my heart each time.
“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

— Matthew 6:21

From pencil to brush…

I have been drawing since I was very young, without any formal art training. When I was around thirteen, I remember studying the faces of the people I loved—my mother, grandmother and grandfather—and trying to capture them on paper. Even then, I was fascinated by faces, expressions and all the small features that make each person recognisable and unique. I worked mainly with pencil and coloured pencils, drawing faces, flowers, animals, small creatures and images with symbolic meaning.

For many years, I hesitated to pick up a brush. Pencil felt familiar to me; colour and paintbrush did not. Then, recently, I decided to give them a try. And so, in May 2026, my first icon came to life. It marked the beginning of a journey that is only just unfolding—and perhaps that is why it feels so alive to me.

Eleven years later, the pencil gave way to the brush. My first icon was Saints Peter and Fevronia — the work that marked the beginning of this new journey.

It all begins with the gaze…

For me, a face truly begins to come alive when its gaze stirs an emotion in me—one that makes me want to keep looking. That is why the eyes are perhaps the part I pay the greatest attention to. If I do not feel they are exactly as they should be, I find it difficult to consider the icon complete, no matter how much I may like everything else.

I want the gaze to meet the person standing before the icon, as though speaking to them without words. Sometimes gentle, sometimes sorrowful, protective or compassionate, but always comforting. I want it to carry a certain gentleness that is so often lost in the fast pace of everyday life.

When I finish an icon, I want to look at it and feel that I am not standing before it alone. As though someone were beside me, simply saying through their gaze: “Do not be afraid. I am here.”

My little saints…

Animals, birds, butterflies and flowers often find a small place in my icons. I am moved by their innocence and tenderness, as well as by the quiet way they inhabit the natural world. They do not seek attention; they simply follow their nature and, in their own way, have something to offer.

Perhaps that is why they seem so naturally at home beside the holy figures. I see in them something quiet, gentle and unassuming—a small reminder of the beauty and innocence of creation. In my own affectionate way, I think of children and animals as my “little saints”, perhaps because in their eyes I find that innocence and purity we so easily lose as we grow older.

From my hands to your space…

Every icon that leaves my hands carries with it something of the time, thought and love with which it was created. I hope that, when it finds its place in a home, it becomes not simply an object on the wall, but a quiet presence within the space.

And if, one day, someone looks at it and feels a little comfort, peace or a sense that they are not alone, then, to me, the icon has fulfilled its true purpose.