The luteal phase was once the part of me I misunderstood most.
Emotional intensity, sensitivity, and fluctuation rise here —not as instability, but as truth. Everything suppressed earlier surfaces now.
The randomness in this work allows that honesty to exist without apology. Expression becomes essential: to feel fully, to speak freely, to soften without explanation.
This painting is my acceptance of emotional depth as intelligence. Nothing is wrong here. Nothing needs fixing.
 
After leaving my career as a telecom engineer to live fully as an artist, I began observing rhythms I had long overlooked. In my mid-30s, I started tracking my menstrual cycle not to manage it, but to understand it. What revealed itself was a precise intelligence: four distinct phases, each carrying its own emotional, physical, and creative logic.
 
What once felt like inconsistency became structure. Mood was not randomness; it was information. Energy was not constant—and it was never meant to be.
 
This body of work is a refusal to pathologize natural rhythms. Nothing here needs fixing. Each phase carries wisdom. Each deserves respect.