Many people ask me: where do ideas come from? As if there were some secret source we can only tap into from time to time. But the truth is, ideas don’t always strike like lightning. Sometimes they start from a faint impression, other times there is only silence for days, even weeks.
What inspires me?
One of the things that most often inspires me is mood.A strange light, a half-heard phrase, a feeling that’s hard to name.
Then there are childhood memories — books I read until they were falling apart, drawings I saw back then.Even today, shapes, moods, and characters come back to me. Music, in particular, evokes visual images in a strange and powerful way. Sometimes a single melody can spark an entire world in my mind: a character, a color palette, a scene.
In my work, recurring motifs often appear — ones I don’t always consciously choose, yet they keep returning. For example, horns — sometimes subtle, sometimes prominent. They carry something primal, mythical — a mixture of strength and sensitivity.
Sometimes eyes appear, or dreamlike, blurred shapes that only suggest rather than assert “this is that.” These always seem to find their way back to me — like visual codes for the stories unfolding inside me.
Not every piece carries an intentional message, but if you place many of my works side by side, you can see patterns that repeat instinctively.Like an internal visual language that my hand speaks for me.
But what happens when inspiration doesn’t come?
The absence of inspiration is also a familiar visitor. Sometimes nothing moves. In those moments, I don’t force it — and if I do, it often produces something distorted or lifeless. I believe that a lack of inspiration isn’t simply a lack of ideas. It’s more like an internal silence.ou’re ready to create — but nothing calls you, nothing truly moves you. It’s as if the world around you whispers, but you can’t understand what it’s saying. It’s not necessarily emptiness, just a disconnection from the inner sourcewhere images, shapes, and stories usually flow effortlessly.
Sometimes it’s fatigue. Other times too much stimulus. Or perhaps too little. Maybe you’ve been “switched on” for too long, and now your soul is asking for some quiet.
But lack of inspiration is not the enemy. It’s a symptom. It signals that it’s time to slow down, recharge, and pay attention — not outwardly, but inwardly.
In these moments, you have to go see, hear, and feel.I walk, visit bookstores, look at photographs, flip through long-forgotten sketchbooks.
Often, the clearest direction comes out of emptiness. Things ripen in the waiting; creative ideas are always there if we remain open to them.
The creative process is not always active. Sometimes the most important part is the silence.
