Sometimes I’m in a crowded room and feel like I’ve crash-landed from another planet, 

same air, different frequency. That uneasy hum is where What on Earth begins. Each painting drops a slightly off-center figure into an ordinary scene that doesn’t quite add up. Nothing screams; the strangeness just lingers, quietly.

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I’m chasing that moment when you think, I belong here… probably. The paintings hold that pause. The space between fitting in and floating above it, long enough for someone to see themselves in the outsider and maybe laugh at how weirdly familiar it feels.