I have always carried a sketchbook with me — a habit that began in childhood and continues to this day. It was never just a notebook, but a quiet companion. I would sit anywhere — in parks, on sidewalks, in waiting rooms, at cafés — and sketch whatever caught my attention. A gesture, a shadow, an expression, a fleeting moment.

Drawing became my way of observing the world more closely. The sketchbook taught me to slow down, to notice details others might pass by, and to translate everyday impressions into lines and forms.

Even today, that ritual remains unchanged. Wherever I go, my sketchbook goes with me — a constant reminder that inspiration is everywhere, if you choose to see it.