There comes a moment in every woman's life when she realizes she isn't becoming less.
She's becoming more.
More herself.
More certain.
More willing to leave behind the versions of herself that no longer fit.
The world has a habit of treating transformation as something that belongs to the young. Caterpillars become butterflies. Girls become women. End of story.
I don't believe that.
I think we're meant to keep becoming.
Menomorphia is a portrait of that quiet evolution.
The butterflies aren't symbols of youth. They're companions on the journey. Each one a reminder that change isn't something to survive—it's something to embrace. The vibrant purples and blues echo through the painting like possibility itself, while layers of texture hint at the many lives we live beneath the surface. Every scrape, glaze, and hidden mark tells the story of a woman who has lived enough to know that growth is rarely neat, but it is always beautiful.
This painting revealed its meaning to me slowly.
What began as an exploration of portraiture became a meditation on identity. I found myself thinking about all the versions of ourselves we leave behind, and how each one quietly makes room for the next. The woman in this painting isn't looking back with regret. She's looking forward with wonder.
Perhaps that's why she feels so familiar.
We all know what it's feels like to shed an old skin.
To outgrow a story.
To discover that the person we feared becoming was actually the person we were meant to be all along.
My hope is that Menomorphia serves as a daily reminder that transformation doesn't end with age—it deepens. Every time you pass this painting, I hope it invites you to ask a simple question:
Who am I becoming today?
Menomorphia
Mixed media on canvas
24 × 24
This is the original painting, one of one, signed on the front right and back.
Ships wrapped and ready to hang, certificate of authenticity included.
There comes a moment in every woman's life when she realizes she isn't becoming less.
She's becoming more.
More herself.
More certain.
More willing to leave behind the versions of herself that no longer fit.
The world has a habit of treating transformation as something that belongs to the young. Caterpillars become butterflies. Girls become women. End of story.
I don't believe that.
I think we're meant to keep becoming.
Menomorphia is a portrait of that quiet evolution.
The butterflies aren't symbols of youth. They're companions on the journey. Each one a reminder that change isn't something to survive—it's something to embrace. The vibrant purples and blues echo through the painting like possibility itself, while layers of texture hint at the many lives we live beneath the surface. Every scrape, glaze, and hidden mark tells the story of a woman who has lived enough to know that growth is rarely neat, but it is always beautiful.
This painting revealed its meaning to me slowly.
What began as an exploration of portraiture became a meditation on identity. I found myself thinking about all the versions of ourselves we leave behind, and how each one quietly makes room for the next. The woman in this painting isn't looking back with regret. She's looking forward with wonder.
Perhaps that's why she feels so familiar.
We all know what it's feels like to shed an old skin.
To outgrow a story.
To discover that the person we feared becoming was actually the person we were meant to be all along.
My hope is that Menomorphia serves as a daily reminder that transformation doesn't end with age—it deepens. Every time you pass this painting, I hope it invites you to ask a simple question:
Who am I becoming today?
Menomorphia
Mixed media on canvas
24 × 24
This is the original painting, one of one, signed on the front right and back.
Ships wrapped and ready to hang, certificate of authenticity included.
