*i still dont understand that but i wanted to, and so i painted it...

*the original story of the painting was that i saw what looked like a father with a child sleeping in his lap on the bus. this filled me with terror for the child but over the half hour or so they were on the bus with me, i realized that the child appeared to feel safe and sheltered there.

these days, ive been feeling more and more the need to use my voice again. so i am saying this in an attemt to untie my knots, reclaim my voice and find a way to use it going forward.

funny how its always the little things that break me...

i had so deeply internalized the belief that as a daughter, i could not contradict the patriarch of my family without shaming all of my siblings. i think i made a plea to death of the artist and then didnt publish art again in any way for years.

lol 😅

thx! 😁

that feeling is so real ...

ooh pretty! love these kinda spots 👀 nice job avoiding the asbestos 😅

thats so impressive! ✨

this is the first illustration, an analysis of the social protocols used around the lunchroom table. i was like 29 before my autistic brain realized making eye contact and smiling with each speaker around the table was not actually the typical protocol for that situation 😅