That’s what I found myself doing one sunny afternoon, sitting across from my parents in our cosy kitchen in Brazil.

I had spent years following the path they’d laid out for me—Law School, a secure job, a future mapped out in black and white. But somewhere along the way, my heart started craving colour.

It wasn’t an easy conversation.

My parents, bless them, had always been my biggest supporters, and they just wanted what was best for me.

But I knew the law wasn’t where my soul belonged.

So, like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, I packed up my dreams and moved to London, leaving everything I knew to find myself in a city full of strangers.

In London, I worked odd jobs—mostly in hospitality—to keep the wolf from the door. It wasn’t glamorous, but it gave me the freedom to explore the one thing that had always called to me: Art.

Yet, despite all the inspiration around me, I didn’t dare to start. I couldn’t draw—or at least that’s what I’d convinced myself. I was terrified of failing, of being judged, of not being good enough. The blank page felt like a chasm, and I wasn’t sure I had the courage to cross it.

Then, one day, I wandered into an abstract art museum, feeling lost. As I strolled through the gallery, something incredible happened. The artist on those walls, now long gone, hadn’t cared a jot about being judged. He was simply creating, letting his imagination run wild without a care in the world.

And suddenly, it hit me: I didn’t have to be perfect. I just had to start.

I sat on the grass outside the museum, feeling a mix of confusion and exhilaration, and began scribbling in my notebook—random lines, whimsical shapes, nothing that made sense.

But in that moment, I felt free, like I’d been given permission to colour outside the lines.

My imagination exploded, and I realised that art wasn’t about following rules; it was about breaking them, about expressing whatever was inside me.

Over the next couple of years, I taught myself to draw, starting with simple sketches and gradually building up to more complex forms.

It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when I felt like quitting.

But I kept at it, driven by the stories I wanted to tell through my art.

Because that’s what I discovered: I’m not just an artist—I’m a storyteller.

Most of my paintings aren’t just pictures; they’re narratives, bursting with characters, emotions, and little bits of whimsy that invite others to step into a world of their own.

Then, one Saturday, while I was serving tables at a burger place, a couple who were regulars asked if I’d paint something for their twin daughters. I was gobsmacked. Someone actually wanted my art in their home!

That couple will always hold a special place in my heart. 💛Their timing was magical—just when I needed a spark of confidence, they provided it. Their request was the turning point that gave me the belief that my art could touch others.

Opportunities I never imagined started coming my way, and soon, I was collaborating with my friend James on a series of artworks for Copper In The Clouds - a distillery in the UK.

What began as label designs quickly grew into something more—a collection that celebrated the joy and warmth of life, friendship, and nature.

Today, my art is all about capturing the beauty in simple moments.

My Flow of Life collection, filled with playful animals and vibrant scenes, is a reminder that happiness often comes from the little things. With each brushstroke, I try to bring a bit of that magic into people’s lives.

And you know what? I wouldn’t trade this journey for anything. Not even a law career.