Not to impress, but to remind

For many years, I searched for something that would last.

I have drawn since childhood.
Design came later.
I worked, built things, experienced success, and moved on.
Nothing was particularly wrong — yet something always felt missing.

At some point, I stopped adding more.

When I encountered the Qur’an, it felt different.
Not inspiring in the usual sense — but final.
As if the world did not need improvement,
only a correction of vision.

For a while, I stopped creating altogether.
It felt unnecessary to add anything of my own.

Then I encountered Islamic calligraphy.

Not as decoration,
but as remembrance.
A way of serving meaning with the hands.

Since then, my life has slowed down —
and at the same time, become more grounded.

I learned discipline long before art, through years of practice and repetition.
Physical work taught me humility.
Family life taught me patience.
Faith taught me restraint.

I study the deeper dimensions of calligraphy under Turkish instruction,
and continue learning — slowly, seriously.

I know the material.
Ink is not only color to me; it has weight and behavior.
The same is true of paper.
This is why I am drawn to making my own tools —
pens, paper, and other instruments —
when the work calls for it.

I live and work in Budapest.

My work is not meant to impress.
It is meant to remind.

If something here feels familiar,
you are welcome to stay.

For quiet correspondence.