I love when people are so in love with an art form that they become fascinated by it. In a world that demands awareness and certainty, curiosity has quietly gone missing. Yet curiosity is the very essence that once inspired us to take our first, trembling steps.
As an oil painter, my work is rooted in dreams and surrealism, where reality and imagination intertwine in the most unpredictable ways. I often feel that in my art I dance between how much of myself I’m willing to reflect on versus my desire to master a skill. It is all very emotional, passionate, and focused for me. It feels good knowing that every time I touch the canvas, I’m going to get out what I’ve put in. There’s a trust in it which feels rare in my life. In a way, it’s the place where I’ve learned to embrace curiosity.
To be a woman is to know scarcity of safe spaces. I have lived long enough to see how easily the innocence and interior lives of women can be taken from them—by objectification, by circumstance, by the simple act of walking through a world that demands hyper vigilance. My devotion to painting is both an act of protection and a rebellion. It is my consciously curious act of resistance. And my most courageous one. Through it I speak, heal, and transform. The studio becomes a sanctuary where sensuality and fear coexist, where playfulness meets philosophy.
Here, I am the alchemist and the wanderer.
I think about my career as an artist and it feels risky to say these things. There’s just no other way I could convey my truth. My path has been a continual reclamation of mind, body, and identity. Deciding to pick up the paint brush and never stop came with an unraveling of everything within me. It has given me a place where I can surrender and the surrendering feels good. Like purpose. It is how I’ve truly stepped into myself and with consistency, the world I thought I was building, has built me.
Facing a blank canvas, one thought always returns:
It is safe to be curious here.
Photographed by @chrispaulthompson
Outfit by @awlove_