Acrylic, Oil, and Ink on Canvas, 36 x 24 in., 2019
”Peak inside, but don’t read my mind,
Stained my hands from trying to find,
Hope or peace in a useless plight,
Until my heart’s eclipsed in greater light,
A moon reflecting a greater glory,
Letting the Author write my story,
No longer sinking in pointless strife,
A tired skeleton brought back to life.”
Inspired by Romans 8:10
Oil on Canvas, 11x14 in., 2019
This piece is a commentary on how women’s voices are often drowned out by a hive of doubts and disbelief in society. Though her words are sweet as the honey dripping from her mouth, the bees flock to drown out her voice. However, she is a rarity that should be treasured, as the Kadupul blossoms around her reinforce. Kadupul is a rare flower found in rainforest climates that only blooms for two hours around midnight. Though the blooms produce a beautiful perfume, as soon as they are cut, the flower dies. If the woman or Kadupul are cut off, they will wilt away, as will the insects who need the blooms to survive.
Oils and Ink on Canvas, 36 x 20 in., 2018
Hello dear, it’s me again.
I see you’ve been going through a lot, so I’m back my friend.
The one loyal companion who’s always there through the rough.
The one who reenforces how it’s all so tough.
I keep you grounded, it’s true I swear.
I’ll keep pointing out your flaws til it’s too much to bear.
I know you can’t stand me, or rather... you.
Cause we are the same person, this isn’t something new.
I’m your depression you see.
I’m a part of you as much as you’re a part of me.
.....
Time has passed on and on.
And still I’m here, singing the same song.
But you’ve changed quite a bit dear.
Though you still lend me your ear,
You now fight me without fear.
You won’t let the doubts long hold steer.
You’re flying freer now.
While I’m still stuck on the same ground.
You still try to leave me in tow.
I won’t say goodbye yet though...
.....
I won’t believe your lies anymore
I’ll try I’ll try I’ll try
This poem is intertwined in the painting itself, but presented here for the viewer to read.
Oil on Canvas, 11x14 in., 2019
“What makes up your point of view? A whispered moment or tinted hue?”
This painting came from thinking about thinking. From thinking about how my point of view is so complex... influenced by so many sights, tangled by conflicting views with valid points in both, but blooming into a unique reality in which I live.
