Becoming

Becoming (2026)

Acrylic on Canvas

30x40”

Artist’s Note: 

I started this painting almost a year ago in the Fall. It sat in my studio, taking up entirely too much space and getting shuffled around regularly to make way for other projects. It sat propped on a table in the middle of the room with its fluorescent red underpainting glowing in the morning light—taunting me on a regular basis of yet another incomplete project. I lost steam early on this one, but the sheer size of the canvas was too large to ignore in my small home studio. Finally, partially out of spite and partially out of renewed interest, I put it back on my easel.

When I originally began, I was processing a lot of grief. I was angry with myself. Angry with others. Angry with the world. Now I sat in the same chair months later, staring before me at this half-finished painting with softer eyes. A lot of life had happened between last Fall and now. I wasn’t angry anymore, but I held space for the woman in me that was. I don’t find it a coincidence that I chose such a large canvas at such a mentally-taxing period. In some ways, the size of the canvas was directly tied to the size of the emotions I was trying to process. I also now see the irony in attempting to delay this project as a testament to my avoidance around vulnerability. Sitting with this painting in all my uncertainty as I battled self-criticism and doubt felt deeply uncomfortable. But if there’s anything I’ve learned within the last year, it’s that I can do hard things— and in this case, that meant sitting with myself while I finished this painting.

I thought about the person I’ve become in the last year. There are times that uncertainty creeps in, and when it does, it’s no longer paralyzing. I have more tools now, a better support system, and maybe I’m just a tad wiser. In this chapter, I see a glimmer of hope for the person I am, and the person I’m still becoming.