The sisters

Not blood related one.

There’s something about being close to someone and not knowing what to do with the space between you. It’s not anger. It’s not love, either. It’s that complicated tension that lives in shared history, where connection is still there, but not clean. Not soft.

That’s what this painting was for me.

Two women, standing together, divided by something that isn’t a wall but still feels like one. They’re not turned away. They’re not fighting. But they’re holding something unspoken between them, and you as an observer. And it has teeth.

These women are not related by blood. But they are sisters. They are strangers who just recognize something familiar in each other’s shape. The truth is, I’ve been both women in that painting.

I’ve stood beside someone I loved and still felt a bite in the silence. I’ve smiled through tension because walking away would’ve hurt more. And I’ve held my ground when closeness became too sharp to soften.

Sometimes what binds us is love. Sometimes it’s obligation. Sometimes it’s knowing too much about each other to pretend we don’t care. There’s tenderness in that, too, if we let it stay unpolished.

These two women hold security between them. They are having each others back. And they are inviting you to rethink the same love you have with your women in your life.

I painted this painting as a way to hold that tension without solving it. To let it live, not as conflict, but as real connection. One that includes complexity.

Not all closeness is gentle. But it can still be true.