I grew up in the Czech Republic, exploring art as a way to understand the world and myself, from delicate floral paintings to intimate portraits. Moving to the US in 2018 opened new paths, leading me through studies at Mesa College and UCSD, where I graduated in 2025 with a degree in Studio Arts. Being an artist is not just about creating—it is a way of living, a journey of discovery and growth. Every piece I make, every choice I take in my practice, is a step into uncharted lands, finding my own voice and spaces where no one has gone before. From my studio in Liberty Station Arts District, I explore the intersections of art, life, and identity, discovering what it truly means to live as an artist.

 

Layers of Mind and Color

​

I sit with a blank page and allow my hands to walk freely across the paper, without direction or intention. I trust the movement itself, hoping that through this quiet surrender I can reunite with something internal and unnamed. Lines appear slowly at first, then with growing confidence—looping, hesitating, returning. This practice of automatic drawing, inspired by surrealist techniques, feels less like something I create and more like something I receive.

 

Images surface from these wandering lines. They do not arrive with explanations or clear narratives. Instead, they feel like letters from my unconscious—written in a language I cannot immediately translate. Only after the drawing is finished do I begin to read it. Even then, the meaning remains partially hidden, holding a secret that pulls me back again and again, asking to be revisited rather than resolved.

 

These drawings became the foundation for my paintings. I built layers of acrylic color quickly and intuitively, allowing emotion and sensation to settle into the surface before thought could interfere. Over time, color and line entered into a dialogue—gesture meeting structure, intuition meeting attention—shaping the work from within.

 

Eventually, the space of the canvas proved too confined. The rectangular format could no longer hold what was trying to emerge. It felt like pressing an entire inner landscape into a rigid box, forcing every corner to behave. The work resisted. Shapes asked to spread, to breathe, and to move beyond the edge—flowing across the wall and into the room, no longer willing to remain contained within regular borders.

 

This tension led to a shift in my practice. Painting moved beyond the flat surface and became sculptural. Forms stepped forward from the canvas, taking on physical depth and presence. Hand-cut wooden shapes layered over painted grounds, allowing color, shadow, and space to interact freely. What began as an intuitive, internal process expanded outward, resulting in the sculptural paintings that now define my current body of work.