Pregnancy was unlike any state I had known — continuous, expansive, and quietly radiant. There was no rise and fall, only steadiness, trust, and creative abundance. My energy peaked. I painted for twelve hours a day, read relentlessly, slept deeply, and felt entirely available to my work and myself. Creation was happening everywhere —within my body and through my hands. Those months reshaped my life. They gave me the courage to leave a secure engineering career and step fully into being an artist.


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.