one is not born, but rather becomes, a woman

We learn early how to wear masks. The friend. The saint. The good girl. The mother. The fantasy. A new role for every room we enter, a new face for every version of ourselves the world demands. This painting asks: Who are we, when the masks come off? May we be friends, may we be mothers, may we be lovers, fighters, soft, furious, holy, complicated. May we be everything – but always consciously, never performatively, never hidden behind a mask that was chosen for us. And may we raise our daughters in a world where they no longer have to disguise themselves to be safe, desired, respected, or loved.