There was a time I believed I could stay quiet. That my art could live in its own world—free from the weight of politics, conflict, or disagreement. I used to think discomfort had no place in calligraphy. That lines were meant to soothe.

But the world kept shifting.
News that broke my heart. Conversations that exposed how small some people choose to think. Words like “freedom” and “privilege” thrown around without care—without understanding. I felt like my silence was becoming a form of agreement. And I couldn’t live with that.

That’s when Uncomfortable Lines began.
Not as a planned collection, but as an emotional need. These pieces aren’t just ink and paper—they’re moments I couldn’t explain in conversation. They hold my questions, my grief, my defiance. Sometimes all in the same stroke.

Now, I understand that discomfort can be powerful. It can start conversations that pretty lines alone can’t.
So this collection exists for those who are also sitting in the tension. Who feel too much. Who see what others won’t.
These are not answers. They’re invitations—to look again, to feel deeper, and maybe, to disagree.