Most of my work lives in a very specific format.
A small, slightly awkward rectangle that has slowly become my signature. I like its limitations. It forces intimacy. Every line matters. Every detail feels close, almost like a tattoo placed directly on the face.
But this time, I wanted to go bigger.
Not just physically bigger — but emotionally consistent.
Why I Usually Work Small
The smaller format helps me stay dense and personal. My style relies heavily on lines, micro-details, and what I like to call “face tattoos” — small words, symbols, and textures that carry meaning and also decoration.
When you scale that up, everything changes:
- lines get thicker
- gaps grow wider
- intimacy risks getting lost
The biggest challenge with this new piece wasn’t size — it was how to make it feel like it belongs to the same world as the smaller works.
The Technical Problem (and a Small Hack)
On the smaller pieces, I often use dot shading as a signature move. Tiny dots, placed patiently, to soften areas and add depth.
On a larger surface, those dots disappeared.
They were simply too small to matter.
So I improvised.
Follow my journey through social media:
I took a standard permanent marker and cut the nib with a utility, box cutter knife. By removing the tip, I ended up with a perfectly round, blunt surface that created visible, bold dots — large enough to read from a distance, but still controlled.
That small adjustment changed everything.
It reminded me why I love working hands-on:
with a bit of imagination, you can achieve great results.
Where Mustache Men Come From
I lost my father when I was 11.
He died suddenly of a heart attack.
Few years back I had this urge to restart painting/drawing again but I couldn’t land the feeling – in which direction should I go. I have been jumping from one project to other without any style consistency, because I get bored fast and want to try new things. Say Hello! to my creative ADHD brain, sometimes I wonder how I accomplish anything with all the noise in my head, it’s not easy.
And then, out of nowhere, I drew the first Mustache Man that had some resemblance to my father. This was the first drawing or painting that had deeper meaning to me, and people noticed that. So for the past years I have been continuing this artwork style and finding spreading subtle but deeper meaning with my art. Now I have a message, a purpose that is very dear to me and hopefully others.
The messages on these faces are simple:
- give love
- forgive
- xoxo
Those words exist as reminders — especially to fathers like mine and me included. Be there for your kid, love them, forgive their bad behavior, you never know when your time is gonna run out, be present! I have two daughters, and I know firsthand how easy it is to get distracted, tired, impatient. These works are as much for me as they are for anyone else.
We don’t always need new ideas. Sometimes, just dig a bite deeper in yourself, maybe open that door you are afraid to open. Let the bugs out and explore your inner zoo!
Art Doesn’t Happen in Isolation
This painting wasn’t made in a quiet, protected bubble (sometimes I wish, though).
It happened between:
- client meetings
- daily responsibilities
- graphic design work (that pays the bills)
- Christmas errands
- family noise and household chaos
That overlap matters.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how my work, my videos, and my life exist together. The more I try to separate “art time” from “real life,” the more artificial things feel. The moments that feel most honest are the ones where everything exists on the same timeline.
That’s something I’m still figuring out how everything can co-exist: working + making YouTube videos + creating artworks + family time + blog posts — but I know for sure I want my work (from artwork to YouTube) to feel lived-in, not staged, structured and scripted. Any tips on how to achieve this?
Final Thoughts
This piece pushed me technically, and I’m very glad I found a solution. I don’t know if I’m going to make another one in the near future, but It was a good experience. It confirmed that scale doesn’t have to kill intimacy — but it does demand new solutions.
I’m still exploring this format. Still exploring this theme.
And for now, that feels right. I definitely want to try something new very soon, but I bet there’s going to be a new blog post about it.
If you want to experience the full day — the artwork, the chaos, the in-between moments — the video version captures that side of the process.
This post is about the core.
The work beneath the noise.
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