My journey with art began when I was very young, drawn to the way it allowed me to express emotions freely on paper. There was something magical about how, with just a simple piece of paper and a pen, I could create something entirely unique—a world where there were no rules, boundaries, or constraints. This freedom of expression became a powerful outlet for me, where I could let my imagination run wild and bring my inner thoughts and feelings to life. As I grew older, this passion only deepened, as I realized that art wasn’t just about creating beautiful images; it was about communicating a piece of myself in a way that words often couldn't capture. Each stroke of the pen became a part of my personal narrative, shaping my understanding of the world and my place in it.

I have a deep fondness for pen sketches, primarily because of their convenience. As a student at McGill, I always carry a notebook and a pen on campus, which naturally led to countless sketches appearing next to my class notes over the years. I find that adding these vivid sketches alongside complex mathematical formulas brings a sense of balance to the page, almost as if these emotional displays transform the black-and-white theorems into something more approachable—like a confidant rather than just challenging puzzles to solve.

I received professional training as an artist back in high school and even considered pursuing an artistic major as a career path. Despite often feeling driven crazy by the black-and-white mundanity of daily life, I've always found solace in the delicateness of pencil sketches. There's something calming about trying to capture every fine detail with just a pencil, the process of translating what I see into art on paper. Even now, that practice continues to bring me a sense of grounding and focus, allowing me to express myself through the subtleties of each line and shadow.