PanPastel
PanPastel Sofft Tool
Oil Sticks And Paint
Fabric Scraps
The Mental Part
Spray Paint
Charcoal
Acrylic Paint
MATERIALS | TOOLS
PanPastel is at the heart of my creative process. I would say that around 80% of my work is built with it. Unlike traditional pastels that come in sticks, PanPastel is a soft pastel packed into a small pan, almost like a painter’s color palette. This unique form allows me to treat pastel like paint: I can load color onto sponges or soft tools and blend it seamlessly across the surface.
What I love most about PanPastel is its versatility. The pigments are rich and vibrant, yet they can also be applied in delicate, translucent layers, almost like watercolor. With them I can create smooth gradients, atmospheric backgrounds, or sharp details, all depending on how I handle the material.
Because the pastel is pressed into a pan rather than bound in a stick, there is very little dust, which makes the process cleaner and more controlled. For me, PanPastel is not just a material - it’s the language through which most of my artistic ideas first come to life.
Alongside PanPastel itself, the Sofft Tools are essential to how I work. At first glance they might look simple - small sponges, knives, or applicators - but they are what make PanPastel so versatile. With them, I can glide pigment softly across the surface, blend colors into seamless gradients, or carve out fine details with surprising precision.
What I appreciate most is their sensitivity. The sponges respond to even the lightest touch, almost like an extension of my fingers, but with far more control. They allow me to paint with pastel in a way that feels fluid and painterly, without the limitations of sticks or brushes.
For me, Sofft Tools are not just accessories; they are part of the language of my process. They turn pigment into atmosphere, transform dust into form, and help me bring subtle emotions into visible shape.
Oil sticks and paint bring a completely different energy into my work. While PanPastel and charcoal powder allow for softness and atmosphere, oil has a boldness that demands presence. Oil sticks are essentially oil paint in solid form, held together in a stick that I can draw with directly. They let me move freely across the surface - sometimes sketching, sometimes layering thick, vibrant marks that carry all the intensity of paint but with the immediacy of drawing.
Traditional oil paint, on the other hand, opens up endless possibilities for texture and depth. Its slow drying time means I can keep working the surface, blending colors into one another, or scraping them back to reveal hidden layers underneath. Oil paint is tactile and physical; it has a weight and richness that no other medium can replicate.
When I combine oil sticks with paint, the results feel alive: gestural strokes, luminous colors, and layers that seem to breathe over time. In my practice, oil is not just a material, it’s a conversation between control and spontaneity, between structure and chaos.
Fabric scraps are my way of giving a painting a body. Unlike pigment or powder, which exist only on the surface, fabric becomes part of the surface itself. I embed pieces of cloth directly into my works, letting them wrinkle, fold, or stretch, so that the painting is no longer just something you look at. It’s something you can almost feel.
These scraps carry their own silent histories: textures worn by time, threads pulled apart, edges that fray unpredictably. When I place them into a composition, they create structure, rhythm, and depth. Sometimes they suggest landscapes, sometimes scars, sometimes just pure abstraction.
For me, fabric is not an accessory but a voice in the artwork. It interrupts the smoothness of paint, catches the light in different ways, and reminds the viewer that art is not only visual - it’s tactile, layered, and alive.
Art, for me, began as a response to my inner world. My thoughts and feelings are not always easy companions - there is a weight to them, a darker side that I have struggled with. But there is also another side, one that gives me strength: the ability to turn those emotions into something tangible.
When I work, I am not just applying color or building layers of material. I am transferring what I carry inside onto paper or canvas. Every mark, every texture, becomes a way of releasing, of understanding, of coping. In this sense, art is not only my profession but my method of survival, a way to give form to the invisible.
It is this duality, the difficulty and the healing that drives my practice. My works are not just images; they are conversations with myself, shaped by the need to externalize what cannot remain only within.
Spray paint brings an element of immediacy and unpredictability into my work. Unlike a brush or pastel, which respond directly to the pressure of my hand, spray paint moves with air, distance, and gesture. It allows me to cover large areas quickly, to build transparent veils of color, or to create sharp contrasts with stencils and masks.
What excites me about spray paint is its freedom. A single movement can leave behind a cloudlike softness or a sudden burst of intensity. The paint settles differently each time - sometimes smooth, sometimes grainy - giving every layer its own character.
For me, spray paint is about energy and spontaneity. It breaks the boundaries of precision and invites chance into the process. It adds another voice to my materials, one that is bold, raw, and full of movement.
Charcoal powder is one of those raw, elemental materials that gives my work a sense of depth and atmosphere. It’s essentially ground charcoal - a fine, velvety dust that can be spread across the paper in delicate layers or built up into dramatic, dark tones.
I use it to create backgrounds that feel almost like mist or smoke, to suggest movement, or to bring contrast into a piece. With brushes, cloth, or even just my hands, I can push the powder across the surface and shape it in ways that a pencil or stick of charcoal could never allow.
What fascinates me about charcoal powder is its dual nature: it can be subtle and soft, creating gentle shadows, or it can be bold and intense, transforming the entire mood of a composition. For me, it’s not only a medium, it’s a way of adding breath and atmosphere to my drawings.
Acrylic paint is the material I turn to when I want speed, clarity, and flexibility. Unlike oil, which takes time to settle, acrylic dries quickly - almost as fast as I can move. This immediacy allows me to build layers rapidly, experimenting with color, texture, and transparency without long pauses in between.
What fascinates me about acrylic is its adaptability. It can be thinned into translucent washes that behave almost like watercolor, or applied thickly for bold, textured surfaces. It accepts other materials like fabric, charcoal, or spray paint and binds them together into one cohesive whole.
For me, acrylic paint is like a bridge between different worlds: the softness of pastel, the weight of oil, the rawness of spray paint. It gives me the freedom to connect all these voices in a single piece, holding them in balance while still keeping its own vibrant presence.
