36 x 36 oil on canvas
Old Bones, New Season is a reflection on the death of the culturally projected self, the dismantling of inherited expectations, and what remains when the structures that once defined us are no longer needed.
The bones and antlers do not represent who the figure is now. They hold the shape of what once was, the architecture of a former self held together by sinew, expectation, and ideas of belonging. The broken spine mirrors the location of an injury in my own body, becoming a symbol for the internal systems that once provided support, but could no longer carry what they had been asked to hold.
The knife is deliberate. It speaks not simply of letting go, but of actively cutting away and consuming the old systems. There is agency in this transformation. Her mud-stained feet are grounded in the earth, suggesting action rather than escape, while her expression is satisfied, inviting, and slightly challenging, carrying an echo of the unapologetic gaze in Manet’s Olympia.
Around her, mushrooms emerge from decay into the richness of spring. What has died has not been wasted. It becomes nourishment.
Old Bones, New Season considers the strange fertility of an ending: the moment when we can look at the remains of who we once needed to be, recognize the foundation they gave us, and allow them to feed whatever is ready to grow next.
Limited edition signed/numbered giclee prints available
36 x 36 oil on canvas
Old Bones, New Season is a reflection on the death of the culturally projected self, the dismantling of inherited expectations, and what remains when the structures that once defined us are no longer needed.
The bones and antlers do not represent who the figure is now. They hold the shape of what once was, the architecture of a former self held together by sinew, expectation, and ideas of belonging. The broken spine mirrors the location of an injury in my own body, becoming a symbol for the internal systems that once provided support, but could no longer carry what they had been asked to hold.
The knife is deliberate. It speaks not simply of letting go, but of actively cutting away and consuming the old systems. There is agency in this transformation. Her mud-stained feet are grounded in the earth, suggesting action rather than escape, while her expression is satisfied, inviting, and slightly challenging, carrying an echo of the unapologetic gaze in Manet’s Olympia.
Around her, mushrooms emerge from decay into the richness of spring. What has died has not been wasted. It becomes nourishment.
Old Bones, New Season considers the strange fertility of an ending: the moment when we can look at the remains of who we once needed to be, recognize the foundation they gave us, and allow them to feed whatever is ready to grow next.
Limited edition signed/numbered giclee prints available
