This is an extremely personal piece, but I really want to share it with you. One evening, as I attempted to drift off to sleep, lying on the pull-out couch in my grandparents’ basement, the image of a young blond woman popped in my mind. Her tattoos resembled the delicate drawings on fine china. Her porcelain skin was so pale that it approached transparency, and she was propped upside down. One year later, as the memories of staying at my grandparents’ resurfaced following my grandmother’s death, I felt the need to paint this dreamlike figure, enclosed by her own thoughts and submerged in water; she’s totally peaceful and isolated, in an otherworldly state. The marks of her past escape her body and encircle her with both her joyful and painful memories.
As I painted, I didn't quite know what I meant to do. It's the first time I had an idea of what my painting would look like rather than what I wanted it to convey, which felt really odd to me. Initially, as I tried to process the thought of the image I'd seen, I wondered what it could possibly mean. I know how cheesy and "ooh I'm an artist look at me" that sounds, but it's true. I was so confused about what I was creating and I really didn't understand why the woman was upside down. Was she dead? Drowning? It kind of freaked me out, to be honest. Anyways, now that I've finished the piece and that I've been able to reflect on it, I finally have a sense of why I made this painting.