Emotion made visible.

I do not paint spaces.
I paint their breath —
the tension in emptiness, the pulse inside silence,
the light that remembers, the shadow that confesses.

For me, color does not describe.
It feels. It wounds. It redeems.

My paintings do not ask to be explained —
they ask to be recognized, intimately, like a forgotten memory.

Art begins where words end.
I create precisely on that threshold.

• Katerina Tsitsela