This painting feels like a self-portrait of sorts. Hair was always a big topic in our household. For most of my life, I had hair almost down to my waist, and my two sisters and my mom also always had long, brown hair. I remember being so excited to learn to braid, and becoming the default braider for my younger sisters because I didn't pull quite as tightly as my mom. In high school, I watched my mom lose her hair to chemo treatments. Many of the teachers she worked with shaved their heads in solidarity. Surrounded by lots of baldies, we kept ours long. Braiding was a source of comfort, and jokes about hair (or lack thereof) were our way of coping. My mom rocks a short, salt and pepper pixie cut now. Now, most days, it just feels like hair. Some days it feels like something more. Though the Earth Trembles is an original oil painting on canvas, and is part of the Time on Our Hands collection, exploring a handful of moments in time.
This painting feels like a self-portrait of sorts. Hair was always a big topic in our household. For most of my life, I had hair almost down to my waist, and my two sisters and my mom also always had long, brown hair. I remember being so excited to learn to braid, and becoming the default braider for my younger sisters because I didn't pull quite as tightly as my mom. In high school, I watched my mom lose her hair to chemo treatments. Many of the teachers she worked with shaved their heads in solidarity. Surrounded by lots of baldies, we kept ours long. Braiding was a source of comfort, and jokes about hair (or lack thereof) were our way of coping. My mom rocks a short, salt and pepper pixie cut now. Now, most days, it just feels like hair. Some days it feels like something more. Though the Earth Trembles is an original oil painting on canvas, and is part of the Time on Our Hands collection, exploring a handful of moments in time.
