Motherhood changed me. The physical anguish and torture of growing and delivering life. An act of womanly reinvention, birth followed by rebirth.

Motherhood is raw, it breaks you, scars your body, condemns your heart to forever live in fear of the greatest of losses.

It also transforms your mind and your perception of the world. It is a lonely journey, and a crowded one. A journey of contrasts.

The different textures and brush strokes in my painting signify these contrasts - this gruesome but wonderful state of being.

“O what to me my mother's care,
    The house where I was safe and warm;
     The shadowy blossom of my hair
     Will hide us from the bitter storm” - W. B. Yeats

Acrylic on canvas (2023)