Bruised Not Broken 16x20 Mixed Media on a 20x28 canvas
Bruised Not Broken is a visual meditation on what it means to endure pain and still remain whole. Painted in deep purples and layered with soft silhouettes of faces, the piece speaks to the tender places we carry—where grief, fear, or physical pain show themselves not as signs of defeat, but as evidence of the body and spirit in the process of healing.
The bruise becomes a metaphor: discoloration not as damage, but as testimony. It’s what happens when you survive something. The purple hues echo that tension—rawness held inside beauty.
Faces begin to emerge through the layers, like memories or emotions surfacing, uninvited but insistent. They remind us that healing isn’t always quiet. Sometimes it demands to be seen.
Gold leaf shimmers within the composition, a nod to the sacredness of what’s been touched by pain. As with kintsugi—the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold—this piece suggests that what has been hurt may also be made more luminous.
Materials: acrylic paint, oil pastel, pencil, and gold leaf on canvas
Each piece in Where the Ink Ran Out was created during or in preparation for my residency at ArtQuest at GreenHill, where my intention was to explore what couldn’t be fully expressed through words alone. All works are on loose, unstretched canvas, with a 16x20 area hand-gessoed at the center, leaving an unprimed border around the edges. I love how this allows the raw edges and natural wrinkles of the canvas to create dimension—each one casting its own subtle shadows. These pieces are meant to be framed in a way that honors that softness and relief, rather than flattening them completely. I also pushed the boundaries of mixed media in this collection, using embroidery floss as a connective and highlighting element—stitched into the canvas like a drawn line, guiding the eye and anchoring the emotion.
Bruised Not Broken is a visual meditation on what it means to endure pain and still remain whole. Painted in deep purples and layered with soft silhouettes of faces, the piece speaks to the tender places we carry—where grief, fear, or physical pain show themselves not as signs of defeat, but as evidence of the body and spirit in the process of healing.
The bruise becomes a metaphor: discoloration not as damage, but as testimony. It’s what happens when you survive something. The purple hues echo that tension—rawness held inside beauty.
Faces begin to emerge through the layers, like memories or emotions surfacing, uninvited but insistent. They remind us that healing isn’t always quiet. Sometimes it demands to be seen.
Gold leaf shimmers within the composition, a nod to the sacredness of what’s been touched by pain. As with kintsugi—the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold—this piece suggests that what has been hurt may also be made more luminous.
Materials: acrylic paint, oil pastel, pencil, and gold leaf on canvas
Each piece in Where the Ink Ran Out was created during or in preparation for my residency at ArtQuest at GreenHill, where my intention was to explore what couldn’t be fully expressed through words alone. All works are on loose, unstretched canvas, with a 16x20 area hand-gessoed at the center, leaving an unprimed border around the edges. I love how this allows the raw edges and natural wrinkles of the canvas to create dimension—each one casting its own subtle shadows. These pieces are meant to be framed in a way that honors that softness and relief, rather than flattening them completely. I also pushed the boundaries of mixed media in this collection, using embroidery floss as a connective and highlighting element—stitched into the canvas like a drawn line, guiding the eye and anchoring the emotion.
Bruised Not Broken is a visual meditation on what it means to endure pain and still remain whole. Painted in deep purples and layered with soft silhouettes of faces, the piece speaks to the tender places we carry—where grief, fear, or physical pain show themselves not as signs of defeat, but as evidence of the body and spirit in the process of healing.
The bruise becomes a metaphor: discoloration not as damage, but as testimony. It’s what happens when you survive something. The purple hues echo that tension—rawness held inside beauty.
Faces begin to emerge through the layers, like memories or emotions surfacing, uninvited but insistent. They remind us that healing isn’t always quiet. Sometimes it demands to be seen.
Gold leaf shimmers within the composition, a nod to the sacredness of what’s been touched by pain. As with kintsugi—the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold—this piece suggests that what has been hurt may also be made more luminous.
Materials: acrylic paint, oil pastel, pencil, and gold leaf on canvas
Each piece in Where the Ink Ran Out was created during or in preparation for my residency at ArtQuest at GreenHill, where my intention was to explore what couldn’t be fully expressed through words alone. All works are on loose, unstretched canvas, with a 16x20 area hand-gessoed at the center, leaving an unprimed border around the edges. I love how this allows the raw edges and natural wrinkles of the canvas to create dimension—each one casting its own subtle shadows. These pieces are meant to be framed in a way that honors that softness and relief, rather than flattening them completely. I also pushed the boundaries of mixed media in this collection, using embroidery floss as a connective and highlighting element—stitched into the canvas like a drawn line, guiding the eye and anchoring the emotion.
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This piece is not framed (framed pictures are just to give you context of how the piece could look framed. No refunds or exchanges. All sales are final.