The beginning of creations
I painted this piece in the spring 2023, on an evening in Vancouver when everything felt new and alive., when the light through my window felt almost ancient, like it had touched these figures before me. The man and woman are bound together in a way that reminded me of the ruins of Rome, where love and power were always tangled. Their gaze forward isn’t softness — it’s survival, the kind of bond that carries both passion and tension. In that moment, I wasn’t just painting bodies, I was painting the first memory of SaintLewis: the beginning of my mythology, where intimacy and struggle live side by side. Just as artists centuries ago captured their own stories on stone and canvas, this work became my way of marking time — my first foundation.
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The Choice
I painted this piece after summer was ending, when the warmth of the season was fading and everything felt uncertain. The central figure sits torn between two forces — the woman who holds him tightly, and the man who leans in with confidence, almost daring him to choose. It reminded me of old Renaissance scenes where beauty and betrayal were painted side by side, where every touch carried both comfort and danger. This work is about the tension that rises when desire collides with loyalty, when passion tests the strength of bonds. It became the second chapter of SaintLewis — a story not only of intimacy, but of temptation, jealousy, and the choices that define us.
The Kiss of the Devil
I designed this piece as autumn was ending, when the days were fading and everything around me felt like it was shifting. The woman here is no longer innocent — she turns to the devil, kissing him with a hunger that feels both destructive and unstoppable. Her three hands tell the whole story: one clings to what she has, one betrays without hesitation, and the third reaches further, beyond what is present, like she will never be satisfied. The devil, with his horns and wings, isn’t just the figure from holy books — he is temptation in its modern form, sharp, magnetic, and unashamed. Together they become something new, a version of the old story no one ever painted: not about good versus evil, but about the human truth of wanting, taking, and surrendering. For now, this vision lives only in digital form, but when it’s painted, it will stand as one of the defining chapters of SaintLewis — a masterpiece about desire without boundaries.
The Rebirth
I designed this piece in the middle of winter, when the nights felt endless and everything around me seemed to be breaking down. The woman here is pregnant, carrying new life, and she rises above the fire that once tried to consume her. Below are the souls of those who doubted her, the ones who thought they could put out her flame — but instead they are the ones swallowed by it. For me, this work is about strength that comes only after destruction, the way survival transforms into power. Right now it lives as a digital creation, but when I paint it, it will become the moment in SaintLewis where loss turns into transcendence.
The Thirteenth Gate
This new collection has been living in my mind for a long time. It’s made up of thirteen characters in total — twelve women and only one man, the devil himself. The women each carry a different face, a different spirit, but together they form one mythology. The devil is the constant — the only male presence, opening his wings as if guarding or tempting the way forward. Behind him, through the gate, there’s not chaos but a desert — open, endless, and strangely beautiful, like a reminder that hell and paradise sometimes look the same.
For me, this series connects back to womanhood and to indigenous beliefs I grew up hearing about — stories where women held both creation and destruction in their hands. Each portrait I’m sharing is a glimpse of that power. You’ll see strength, temptation, softness, defiance — all different reflections of the same journey.
Right now, these exist only as digital works. The full-scale hand-painted collection will come later, when the right support makes it possible. That part is important — these pieces aren’t meant for everyone, they’re meant to live in private spaces, shown in the right way, with care and intention. Until then, I’m only sharing fragments: the faces of this mythology.
