Some artists
use brushes.
I use fire.

People often ask if creating art is relaxing.

Sometimes.

Other times it means hours under a respirator, covered in dust, sanding until my hands ache, questioning everything, and trusting the process anyway.

People see the finished piece.

I fell in love with everything that happens before it.

The mistakes. The learning. The repetition. The quiet victories no one else notices.

Every burn mark. Every layer of metallic pigment. Every resin pour. Every polished surface.

Some artists use brushes.
I use fire.

That transformation is what keeps me coming back.