This large-scale mixed-media work begins with destruction. Finished abstract paintings — some shown, all completed — were deliberately cut apart when the artist understood they were only telling part of the truth. Those fragments became the raw material for something more honest.

Canvas pieces are nailed and stitched onto a ground canvas, their edges finished in copper mesh that catches light like a living border between what was and what remains. Crystals and beading hold captured emotions. Ribbon and cord move through the surface like memory. Small ceramic pieces — words and phrases made a year before this work existed, that sat waiting in a bowl until they found their home — are embedded throughout. Tucked into the layers are drawings made by the artist’s daughter, who has a rare genetic disorder, present here quietly and permanently.

The dimensional, ruffled forms reference the bodily — suture and lace, wound and adornment. Nothing is concealed. The breaks, the stitches, the raw edges are not evidence of damage. They are the content.

This piece was made inside a caregiving life spanning more than twenty years. The former paintings carried despair and rage. What they became is something almost airy — layered, complex, alive with the full weight of everything carried and everything that somehow still catches the light.

This is what a life looks like from the inside.