I am composed. I am more than just a label. Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes anxious (well more than just sometimes), sometimes playful, sometimes sad, sometimes brace, sometimes even too brave, sometimes creative, sometimes numb, sometimes... Oh by the way, I got a bipolar II diagnosis, for context. March 2020. Pastel on Canson cotton, honeycomb surface paper (32cmx24cm).
And most of the time, imperfection is the way to see the balance of life. It's where you see and understand the most beautiful lesson that we will carry upto the end of our existence.
This is a work I made as a reaction to a questionaire about suicide. I got over it, but I have been there, done that. Despair, the feeling of drowning, reaching out but never getting the help you need, deep dark depression, the grey-brown brainfog. Yet: there is some light, there always is, but I'm too scared to look at the light. I didn't varnish this pastel-drawing, just to accentuate the fragility of mental health. What you need to know it that I got out of this and so can you if you are this deep in trouble. I'm doing much better. January 2020, pastel on A3 paper.
Sea Turtle...and Peppa Pig. This drawing was a gift for a friend of mine who loves Peppa. When I gave it to her, she saw Peppa after looking for only about three seconds. I couldn't believe it.
Pencil sketch with colored pencil on sketch paper. I inadvertently sprayed this piece with spray adhesive before spraying down again with fixative, then added the color pencil. I thought it lost at first, but it turned out well in the end. The dancing mushrooms are there for the poor fairy's therapy after her harrowing ordeal.
