The Isolation Portraits

It’s been awhile.

It’s been a long year. Yet time is moving quickly.

Six new originals are available today; as part of the Isolation Portrait Collection.

Read more about the process & these new pieces below

For many artists who tend to be introverted, the start of quarantine in 2020 may not have felt very different. The experience transformed into a dance between what we often long for and everything we tend to avoid.

I became curious with my process; what happens when the idea of isolation is no longer romanticized? I began painting to record and formulate a peak into the diversity in experiencing isolation. What emotions come up? How does each day differ from the next? How are we all dealing with suffering, loss, joy, and acceptance in our own ways? What have we been running from?

In our ever-expanding world, we are rarely forced to stand still. With so much instruction and distraction, we become acclimated to constant noise at an early age. What are we when it all goes silent? Even when we may not be fully aware, we live with the compulsive need for diversion. We shape shift each day to match the reality of our outer world. The lines we cross and use to box ourselves in often stem from everything we've been hiding from.

For me, this time alone sways somewhere between a sanctuary and a prison. Reading back on my journals in March; I described how the country, and even the world, would be stepping into quarantine for two weeks. Weeks turned to months, and now months have taken half our year. What have we learned? Have we even attempted to step back in order to acknowledge others' experiences-- let alone our own?

Each day in quarantine, my experience shifted. What felt sorrowful and impossible to escape can suddenly transform to acceptance, joy and gratitude. Curiosity and introspection can spiral into a deep anxiety that keeps me bedridden. But as time at home continues, awareness heightens. When new cycles emerge, I notice. I sit. I cry. I listen. 

and I paint.

Though these pieces are not considered some of my more experimental or challenging work in terms of composition; the process was more the journey here. These portraits represent a choosing. To surrender, to embrace-- to fully accept ourselves as we are. The whole experience of isolation can rarely be pinned down to one emotive quality. There are stages of emotion. Each piece in this collection represents the thought of remaining open to whatever comes up. A reminder for exploration; that everything we long for meets us at our center. Each piece is a transformation of the overall experience. And it isn't always beautiful. Even in our darkest corners, we can scoop out the dust to see what we've been hiding from. When we're alone, we can become hyper-focused on our own experience of self. We can either numb it; push it back down into our vacuum-- or sit with it. Turn it inside out. Look to see what's calling to us. Like refining our edges.

These pieces showcase our power of observing; only to recognize there is not all darkness, even in the midst of deep turmoil. That our own darkness invites us to grow. To remember what the light feels like; the way it dances on our skin. The touch of a loved one's hand or a moment of connection with a stranger across the room; suddenly become staples to our human experience. Perhaps the best way to depict love and gratitude is by living, experiencing and noticing the absence of it.

Quarantine, however, teaches us that we, ourselves— have been love all along.