Portraits of Hope
Trigger Warning for this collection (Themes of suicide, drug use and dark subject matter)
To anyone reading this who resonates with that raw, pre-recovery stage: Your feelings are valid, and you are not alone. Healing is not linear, and it’s okay to be where you are right now. But please know—recovery is possible, and you deserve a life that feels safe and fulfilling. Small steps matter. Reaching out for help, even if it’s terrifying, is a sign of strength, not weakness.
Portraits of Hope 2007-2008
I have just completed the final painting of my series. These images are ones that have plagued my mind until they adorned the paper they now live on. I think of the fragility of the surface and the emotions they encompass just like a human being.The urgency of these works needed to be free; or rather free from me. This journey has left me with little sleep over the last five months, and now I feel I can breathe once again. As I sit here surrounded by my work, they seem to stare back at me questioning, “what have you done to me?” I am now blatantly and callously aware of where I have come from and what I still am. In these works lie the places in my mind where I should never want to go again. Unfortunately, I am all too aware, my illness is neither curable nor is the insatiable desire and compulsive need for the madness diminishing……so I hope. I hope I will find that place that will fill me with contentment, a place of safety and belonging, but for now, that place will live in my passion to paint; create.
This is a collection of self-portraits. I began by struggling with the images in my mind, trying to use other people in my place as models, but when the emotion and truth fell short, I knew I had to use myself. Mental illness has taken a toll on me for most of my life, so I had to put myself in a vulnerable position. I had to stop hiding behind my paintings and tell my story. There is an inspired madness I love and adore; in fact, I am addicted to it. Sadly, the glorious high always wears off, and this is when darkness takes his turn. I often question why was I infected such a cursed gift? Why am I willing to risk my life and happiness just to feel the fleeting moments of grandiose madness? Why do I so ignorantly forget about the Darkness that follows? The destruction he causes? This, the madness, has stolen away so many things I have loved, created moments of unforgivable chaos, and taken pieces of my life away that I will never recover. This is where my paintings were created; take life. These voids I fill with hope, and I draw from them the strength to continue onward.
Mostly, I have hidden my illness, fearing judgement and labeling . The fear of being confronted with questions that I could not answer. I did not want anyone’s pity, but true understanding would that be an impossibility? Why can’t I just take my medication and lead a normal life? Why do I treat the ones I adore the worse? On and on the question circle my mind, all too often without answers. For the first time, I am completely open to what I feel through my paintings. I put my melancholy, my depression, the utter loneliness, the constant cycling thoughts of suicide, the fear of losing my mind, everything I didn’t want anyone to see. These paintings began as my “portraits of my hope,” but I now know this is not just my battle. Everyone paints their own “portraits of hope” either in one’s mind or on canvas.
