In a world of self-help manuals and endless checklists on "how to be whole," it's easy to think we're here to put ourselves together, like piecing together a puzzle. But what if we’re meant to unravel instead, to willingly "go off the rails" and see what lies beneath the mask of who we think we are?
As an abstract artist, this shedding is the real work. It’s about discarding not just one layer but many layers of skin that have thickened over time—layers of expectation, of ego, of who I’ve been told to be. These aren’t superficial skins; they’re the ones tied to my deepest beliefs and fears. They’re the comforts that form an identity I thought was me, when really, it's just a mirage.
When we go off the rails, we let ourselves plunge into the depths without a clear destination. We don't seek answers or a ready-made version of ourselves; instead, we strip down to the rawness of who we truly are. For me, that’s the richest source of creativity, the place where art begins. It’s where I find beauty in the fragments, where each brushstroke reveals a part of this true self. It’s freeing—and terrifying—to release my need to make sense, to simply be.
Every layer I shed isn’t about becoming something else; it’s about uncovering what’s been buried under the weight of what I thought I was supposed to be. This journey isn’t about being "fixed" but embracing the power of being unfixed, of letting my art speak from the raw and uncharted parts of myself. Going off the rails means releasing, revealing, and eventually—rebirthing the self that’s been there all along.