I paint horses, but first I find them.

I follow Marengo’s traces, and through him the traces of every war horse history forgot.

A circus horse that broke free, standing for thousands who could not. One story, found again and again inside the others.

Every painting begins as a search: a line in a regiment ledger, a photograph in an archive, a grave nobody visits.

When I find something worth telling, I write. A letter from the studio. Sometimes a letter from the road. Sometimes from the place where it happened.

If you‘d like to follow the paintings, the histories and the road between them, walk with us.