I search for authenticity, for what feels true. I start with paint, trying to catch an idea, then I whitewash it to cover my mistakes. I layer, cover, collage, cut, scrape, repeat. Forms emerge through excavation, not polish. I cut into the layers, peaking back previous attempts, leaving scars—a record of every choice, every failure, every push forward.

What lasts isn’t planned, it’s uncovered. My figures look unstable, unfinished, and imperfect. They’re not portraits, they’re vessels for emotion. Even my flowers carry that same vulnerability, fading into decay, their titles holding the only sentiment.

I create by destroying, cutting, and pulling from the void the truth in what I’m actually trying to express. So, mistakes and revisions remain visible, and what I tried to hide rises to be seen

©EricRottcher2026