Artist’s Statement:

Awen, a Welsh, Cornish and Breton word, is often described as a force which moves through the artist or poet - not something they can control. “The flowing spirit of creativity.” 

The idea of control is a complex one for me. I am in a dance with control, always… and always have been. It has been some of the greatest work in my life to really focus in on what control means to me, and what my body believes it’s doing for me in moments of fear and pain. To invite her to the table as a guest, as opposed to the host, has been alchemical for this heart of mine. 

I’ve said before that “I hope my pieces bring the viewer a feeling of peace.” That’s never quite sat right for me, actually. It over-simplifies, I think. Over-simplifies this practice, my hopes and dreams for the paintings that I create and for the people who take them in. It’s not just peace, it’s a landing. A grounding. An embodiment. A surrender. It’s choosing to take comfort and hope in the unknown - not bliss in ignorance. It is full-hearted awareness in accountability - not bypassing. Feeling the shadows, letting them in, but not dwelling within them. 

I have lived in shadow. Fully. Entirely. I have witnessed others inhabit it too. It’s often presented as the price of knowledge - suffering. When I chose - really chose - to pursue art as a purpose four years ago, I was determined to create a space outside of this notion. Could I find a way to embrace all of myself - my dark parts, my innocence, my hope and my fear… Could I accept it all, invite it all to the table, and create from a space of equal parts depth and love…Because that’s what love is, to me. All of what it means to be human, asking to be taken in and held in peace. In understanding. 

What a miracle it is, to hold all of this depth at once, and still move forward, build, create, create, and create. I will never quite be able to articulate just how lucky I feel to be alive, and able to feel. 

These paintings… each of their lines have been laid on the paper with indigo ink, water, and intention. Some are “perfect,” some aren’t. It’s what I wanted - needed - while painting. Perfection in imperfection and what not. The choice to keep going, keep painting, when a line didn’t go the way I had hoped. The knowledge that when it was ‘finished,’ the painting would become a tangible depiction of the balance between the unknown and control. 

These paintings are an invitation into surrender. Into becoming the flow of creative power, oneself. The viewer becomes Awen. 

Each piece took weeks. I went into their creation like a meditation, prayer - an incantation. I was going to paint while fully embodied and intentional, or not at all. Each “braid” of indigo took hours in a day. These five paintings have been an odyssey. 

I feel so lucky to have been able to dance with these pieces over so much time. To have been able to commune with them, alone, for a while. To lay out in image what my heart knows of depth, surrender, love… peace. It is with great tenderness that I offer you these paintings. 

Xx,

W