Where the Heart Remembers began on a day when my mind was crowded with memories I didn’t ask for. Moments that just show up, unannounced, and bring a wave of feeling with them. I approached the canvas without a clear intention, but it became the place where I processed everything I couldn’t express verbally.
The red went down first, fast and heavy. It wasn’t anger, it was the urgency of wanting to hold on to something that felt like it was slipping away. Then the greens emerged, bringing a sense of calm and grounding, reminding me that memory can be both overwhelming and restorative.
As I scraped back through the layers, older marks resurfaced, remnants I had forgotten were there. That’s when I understood what the painting wanted to be: a place where the past and present could exist together without erasing each other.
