Painting: truth coming out of her well

The naked truth.

There she is.

You didn't have to look so hard.

A fury too pure that her nakedness becomes meaningless. Unashamed in substance because she's living through her word.

This is a woman's painting.

I feel many people struggle to comprehend rage in a woman without pathologising or name-calling.

But this? This is an angry woman, a stern truth, stirred up from her well to set the record straight. Scalding you, very clearly, with the absolute truth and nothing but the truth.

So help me…

Sit down.

A Warmonger You Are

One face is named love. The other is named war. The name of the coin is passion — and when you stop looking at which face you're holding, you've left the outcome to chance. We don't think of ourselves as people who wage war. Warmongers

The flasher’s trench coat

A critique. No. I haven't read Hegel. And I know what you're thinking if you have- tugh, she hasn't even read Hegel. (Told you) I've not read Hegel because it's not that his ideas lack value, but because the way

The salmon

A true salmon is immortal till the day it dies. Born to a fresh-water river, it grows then is washed downstream till it hits the ocean. Saltwater infiltrates every cell, burning the fish, reshaping it from within. It then spends years in vast waters, learning everything there is to know

Cultural Inheritance

-Mother My mother has an almost cellular connection to Andalusia. On top of having great taste, she's always drawn to late moorish art and architecture. This woman has been quietly, and often loudly, by my side through thick and thin- Regardless of the ease of our relationship status.

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A Warmonger You Are

The flasher’s trench coat

The salmon

Cultural Inheritance