In the morning, when the golden sunlight streams through the large studio windows and casts long shadows across the wooden floor, I sit at my desk with a hot cup of coffee and draw the first lines with a soft pencil on white paper—just a simple form, floating in the void, unaware yet that it is destined to become a world. Hours pass, and the pencil gives way to a metal pen and black ink; the lines grow sharper, the shadows deeper, and suddenly that form begins to take on character, as if emerging from within itself. Then comes the hand-printing stage—the fresh scent of ink and the pressure of the roller create a magical moment when limited editions are born. Sometimes, instead of this process, I layer colors digitally, adding them one by one until I know precisely what I want for the final stage. In any case, when dusk arrives, I apply the first layer on the large canvas—the smell of paint fills the air, and now it lives, it breathes; the painting draws me into itself, and I find myself living on a new island in the world I have created, until the next island and another morning.