About me
Ever since kindergarten, my head was in the clouds. I couldn’t tie my shoelaces and didn’t understand why you had to memorize the order of the days of the week. On the other hand, I filled dozens of pages with little stick figures and memorized the poems read aloud in class word for word, so I could neatly copy them out at home in a little notebook.
Two years later, armed with a certificate in touch typing, I published my very first book: *The Little Easter Bunnies*. My mom had it bound with an orange cover. Just like the books in our home library, the names of the author, the illustrator, and the publisher were proudly displayed on the cover.
When I was seventeen, I left for St. Petersburg to learn Russian, drawn as much by the adventure as by the mysterious Cyrillic alphabet. During a walk, I happened to end up at the house of Alexander Pushkin. Fascinated, I began working on a biographical comic about how the great poet had challenged a French officer to a duel and ultimately succumbed to his wounds. All for love. Some girls fall in love with rock stars, others with dead poets… Well, to each their own.
Studying Russian and German in Antwerp, the city of my beloved Book Fair, felt like a natural choice. During class, I drew caricatures of my teachers in the margins of my notebooks. And because everything is more fun with a little imagination, I wrote stories in Russian that I then published online so that native speakers could correct them.
After spending a semester in Moscow and several years studying, I moved to Paris, where I was accepted into CESAN, a school for illustration and comic art. During my senior year, a friend suggested I sketch portraits of guests at a gala. “Your style is perfect for this.” She was right.
A few months later, I was sketching guests at one party, then at the next. During one of those events, a man came and sat down at my table. “You absolutely have to come sketch at our wedding. July 25, 2025.” On the big day, I sat with my little table in a corner of the hall. As the evening went on, a line formed in front of my table. Everyone wanted to go home with their own portrait. Three weddings quickly turned into twenty-three.
To this day, I still tell other people’s stories, one illustration at a time. My head is still in the clouds.