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- Siren
Siren
Siren
Oil and oil pastels on linen
80” x 53”
I created Siren as an exploration of femininity, vulnerability, and the complicated relationship between being seen and being truly understood. The woman at the center of the painting covers her face with her hands, creating a moment that feels both intimate and guarded. I was drawn to that contradiction—the desire to be seen alongside the instinct to protect parts of ourselves from being exposed.
The title Siren comes from the mythological figure traditionally portrayed as alluring, mysterious, and dangerous. I wanted to move beyond that familiar interpretation. For me, the siren represents a woman who is aware of her own power but does not need to perform it for anyone else. Her covered face becomes a form of agency. She decides what the viewer can see and what remains private.
I built this painting intuitively, allowing the image to develop through layers of oil paint, gold leaf, oil sticks, and pastels. I am drawn to the physicality of these materials—the way oil can create depth and luminosity, how gold leaf catches and reflects light, and how oil sticks and pastels allow me to draw directly into the surface. I work by adding, scraping, drawing, covering, and returning to areas of the painting until the surface begins to feel alive.
The circles, lines, and repeated marks surrounding the figure are an important part of my visual language. I use pattern almost instinctively, allowing it to create rhythm and movement while also suggesting the thoughts, memories, and emotions that surround the figure. The bright colors and dense patterns contrast with the woman's closed posture, creating an environment that feels simultaneously vibrant and overwhelming.
I did not want this painting to feel like a portrait of a particular woman. Instead, I wanted her to become a space for projection—for the viewer to bring their own understanding of vulnerability, identity, femininity, and strength to the work. Her face is hidden, but she is not diminished. In fact, her concealment gives her a sense of power.
Siren is ultimately about boundaries. It is about the parts of ourselves we choose to reveal, the parts we keep protected, and the realization that vulnerability does not always mean giving everything away. Sometimes, there is power in remaining unseen.
Oil and oil pastels on linen
80” x 53”
I created Siren as an exploration of femininity, vulnerability, and the complicated relationship between being seen and being truly understood. The woman at the center of the painting covers her face with her hands, creating a moment that feels both intimate and guarded. I was drawn to that contradiction—the desire to be seen alongside the instinct to protect parts of ourselves from being exposed.
The title Siren comes from the mythological figure traditionally portrayed as alluring, mysterious, and dangerous. I wanted to move beyond that familiar interpretation. For me, the siren represents a woman who is aware of her own power but does not need to perform it for anyone else. Her covered face becomes a form of agency. She decides what the viewer can see and what remains private.
I built this painting intuitively, allowing the image to develop through layers of oil paint, gold leaf, oil sticks, and pastels. I am drawn to the physicality of these materials—the way oil can create depth and luminosity, how gold leaf catches and reflects light, and how oil sticks and pastels allow me to draw directly into the surface. I work by adding, scraping, drawing, covering, and returning to areas of the painting until the surface begins to feel alive.
The circles, lines, and repeated marks surrounding the figure are an important part of my visual language. I use pattern almost instinctively, allowing it to create rhythm and movement while also suggesting the thoughts, memories, and emotions that surround the figure. The bright colors and dense patterns contrast with the woman's closed posture, creating an environment that feels simultaneously vibrant and overwhelming.
I did not want this painting to feel like a portrait of a particular woman. Instead, I wanted her to become a space for projection—for the viewer to bring their own understanding of vulnerability, identity, femininity, and strength to the work. Her face is hidden, but she is not diminished. In fact, her concealment gives her a sense of power.
Siren is ultimately about boundaries. It is about the parts of ourselves we choose to reveal, the parts we keep protected, and the realization that vulnerability does not always mean giving everything away. Sometimes, there is power in remaining unseen.