Oil on canvas
The flowers were a gift to myself, a quiet act of reclaiming what I had waited years for someone else to offer. Placed carefully on the floorboards, surrounded by an expanse of empty space, they stretched unnaturally, as if reaching for something beyond themselves. Their distorted forms reflected the passage of time, blurring the boundaries of stillness and movement.
Their scent filled the air, intoxicating and grounding, masking the panic that so often lingered within me. The work was created after stretching and distorting the flowers through panoramic photography, visually severing my fingers in this piece.
The painting captures this tension—remaining in the same space as time shifts around you, the flowers an anchor and a witness to the trauma I was experiencing, after my marriage ended.
