I am a self-taught Danish artist.
As a child, drawing was one of the things I loved most. But it wasn’t until I was an adult and a mother of two small children that I realized how important it was for me to express myself.
For a long period, I repeatedly dreamt the same dream: I was standing in front of a huge canvas, surrounded by large buckets filled with all the colors of the rainbow.
Since then, I have been painting, and my curiosity has taken me far and wide.
My art is an important tool for processing emotions and sensations – a place where I satisfy my creative urge and curiosity,but also a place where I find peace.
I have always been fascinated by ancient times in southern Europe, where I have traveled extensively.
I try to merge the past and the present into a story about life. After many years of work and experiments with different visual expressions and techniques, this fascination has found its way into my paintings.
In recent years, I have spent longer periods of time in Cyprus, in a small mountain village close to wild nature and not far from the sea. This has had a huge influence on me and has now entered my paintings,
opening a new world for my future. Over the years, I have participated in various contemporary art exhibitions in Denmark and abroad.

STATEMENT

At all times, we humans have longed for happiness – in one form or another.
But happiness cannot be owned, held on to, or put on a leash.
It reveals itself in glimpses – in moments when everything comes together in harmony.
It lives in the heart as a shining memory, which we may be fortunate enough to experience again and again throughout life. It is precisely the “moment” that is my starting point. In my latest paintings, I attempt to capture the fleeting and to find the extraordinary in the ordinary. I let nature be my inspiration, my co-narrator. It may be a walk along the sea, where every wave is its own, and the traces in the sand
are erased with the tide. It may be the wind, making trees, bushes, and flowers dance – with the sky as a living backdrop. It may be the rain, leaving its imprints as a quiet tale on the surface it has just touched.
It may be the untouched silence of the mountains, where narrow paths bear witness to generations before us – and small shards of pottery remind us of what once was. Or the cliffs by the sea, once glowing lava, now resting in layers upon layers of time, with fossils as voices from a distant and harsh beginning. These are the moments – genuine, changing, and deeply human – that I seek to give form and color.