I was born in Brazil and now live in Burgundy, France, with my husband and our two children.
For a long time, I never imagined becoming an artist.
I've always loved creating—drawing, writing, making things with my hands—but art never seemed like a realistic path. I grew up in an environment where choosing a stable profession came first, and I became a certified high school English teacher.
Everything changed in 2018.
During that time, I found myself facing a profound personal crisis that led me through one of the most difficult periods of my life—and an inner transformation I could never have imagined.
Someone simply suggested that I reconnect with a creative activity to help me through it. Almost by chance, I bought a small painting kit.
It was 2021. That was when I discovered dot painting.
Without understanding why, I simply couldn't stop.
The repetitive movement of each dot quieted my mind.
Hours disappeared.
I rediscovered a silence I thought I had lost.
For the first time in a long while, I had found something that genuinely helped me move through that chapter of my life.
Very quickly, what had begun as a creative hobby became a deeply meditative practice.
When I finished my very first canvas, something within me shifted.
At the time, I couldn't have explained what I was feeling.
Even today, some experiences remain beyond words.
But I knew it was more than a hobby.
Something had just begun.
Even today, I rarely begin an artwork with a precise plan.
A shape appears. One colour naturally calls for the next. A rhythm begins to emerge.
I paint without trying to understand everything, and more often than not, it is only once the artwork is complete that its meaning becomes clear to me.
I feel that my role is not to invent an artwork, but to allow it to emerge.
Some pieces are born this way.
Others begin with a particular intention—love, gratitude, renewal, abundance...
That intention accompanies every gesture, inspiring the colours and sometimes the mantras that arise during the creative process, without ever confining the artwork to a preconceived idea.
In both cases, I create in a state of deep presence, allowing each piece to discover its own natural balance.
When I first began painting, I wasn't trying to create a particular kind of art, nor was I trying to convey any message.
I painted because the practice brought me peace and helped me move forward.
Then, little by little, conversations, experiences, books, and the responses of people discovering my work began to give meaning to what I had been living.
Some spoke of an unexpected emotion, a deep sense of peace, or an attraction they couldn't explain.
As for me, I sometimes experienced very clear sensations in my body while painting. At other times, a mantra, an intuition or a particular emotion would return again and again.
Gradually, everything began to fit together, like the pieces of a puzzle.
Only much later did I discover that there was already a name for this approach: vibrational art.
I don't subscribe to any particular theory.
I simply share a lived experience.
And it is that experience that continues to guide the way I create today.
I believe beauty is never superficial.
It is essential.
It shapes the way we experience the spaces we live in.
It brings calm. It awakens wonder. It invites us to slow down.
But my work reaches beyond beauty.
These are original artworks created not only to be contemplated, but to be lived with.
Works that naturally become part of everyday life—quiet presences in the homes of those who welcome them.
My practice is deeply nourished by meditation, inner exploration, and a sensitivity to what cannot always be seen.
Each person is free to give that experience their own meaning.
Every time an artwork leaves my atelier, I experience a mixture of gratitude and nostalgia.
It feels a little like watching a child leave home.
I have spent dozens—sometimes hundreds—of hours with each piece.
I know every detail. Every hesitation. Every moment when it finally found its balance.
And then comes the moment to let it go.
I still remember the first artworks that found their new homes.
I felt immense joy, together with the quiet certainty that what I was creating could truly touch another person.
Because an artwork is not created to stay with me. It is created to meet the person it was always meant for.
The words that move me most are often the simplest:
"I don't know why, but this artwork kept calling me."
That is exactly how I feel, too.
Alongside my work as an artist, I continue to explore meditation, mindfulness, and different approaches that nourish my creative practice.
I also teach dot painting and meditation in French, with the desire to share not only a technique, but a more attentive, more intuitive and more present way of creating.
The name of my atelier is inspired by a Buddhist aspiration that has accompanied me for many years: the wish that whatever we create may, in its own way, contribute to the happiness of all beings.
But that happiness begins with the one we cultivate within ourselves.
Creating became my own path toward greater presence, peace and joy.
Today, my greatest happiness is sharing that practice through my artworks and my teachings, as each creation leaves the atelier to begin a new chapter in someone else's home.
✨ C’est avec joie que je vous enverrai les détails de cette œuvre.