Golden Bell Jar
This acrylic painting adorned with real gold tears, was created in a dark era of my life.
Back in 2020, I was the most depressed I had ever been. Naturally I thought reading Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" would help me relate to someone and move forward. LOL. Reading that book made me spiral and drop into a space that only art could get me out of.
I now look at this painting and am happy to be moved past that era of depression. I have grown so much since I painted this (my frontal lobe has finished developing) so looking at it now brings a feeling of proudness for my own growth.
The version of me who painted this was deeply broken. She poured her soul into this and buying it would be buying a piece of her. The version of me that painted this also does not exist anymore.
This acrylic painting adorned with real gold tears, was created in a dark era of my life.
Back in 2020, I was the most depressed I had ever been. Naturally I thought reading Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" would help me relate to someone and move forward. LOL. Reading that book made me spiral and drop into a space that only art could get me out of.
I now look at this painting and am happy to be moved past that era of depression. I have grown so much since I painted this (my frontal lobe has finished developing) so looking at it now brings a feeling of proudness for my own growth.
The version of me who painted this was deeply broken. She poured her soul into this and buying it would be buying a piece of her. The version of me that painted this also does not exist anymore.
This acrylic painting adorned with real gold tears, was created in a dark era of my life.
Back in 2020, I was the most depressed I had ever been. Naturally I thought reading Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" would help me relate to someone and move forward. LOL. Reading that book made me spiral and drop into a space that only art could get me out of.
I now look at this painting and am happy to be moved past that era of depression. I have grown so much since I painted this (my frontal lobe has finished developing) so looking at it now brings a feeling of proudness for my own growth.
The version of me who painted this was deeply broken. She poured her soul into this and buying it would be buying a piece of her. The version of me that painted this also does not exist anymore.