This painting started with blood. At the time, I didn’t have a diagnosis, I just knew my body hurt every month, and no one seemed to take it seriously. The confusion, the pain, the emotional flood that came with my cycle felt like too much to carry. So I painted it. This monthly journey into pain, confusion, and paint is what is now the Womb Scapes series.
What came out first after the initial catharsis of blood red dripped paint, were the waves, frothing, stormy. Then a red lory showed up, bold and unflinching. A green fairy followed, offering something like presence or protection. I let the foliage grow around her, like the world was still holding me. The moon backlights the composition, steady and luminous, the driving force behind the monthly rhythm, unifying the piece and quietly energizing the unfolding scene.
This piece holds the experience of bleeding without answers, of feeling broken but still making beauty from it. It’s a visual record of what it means to live in a body that demands to be listened to, even when the world doesn’t.
This painting started with blood. At the time, I didn’t have a diagnosis, I just knew my body hurt every month, and no one seemed to take it seriously. The confusion, the pain, the emotional flood that came with my cycle felt like too much to carry. So I painted it. This monthly journey into pain, confusion, and paint is what is now the Womb Scapes series.
What came out first after the initial catharsis of blood red dripped paint, were the waves, frothing, stormy. Then a red lory showed up, bold and unflinching. A green fairy followed, offering something like presence or protection. I let the foliage grow around her, like the world was still holding me. The moon backlights the composition, steady and luminous, the driving force behind the monthly rhythm, unifying the piece and quietly energizing the unfolding scene.
This piece holds the experience of bleeding without answers, of feeling broken but still making beauty from it. It’s a visual record of what it means to live in a body that demands to be listened to, even when the world doesn’t.
