Some presences don’t need words to be felt. The women in my paintings belong to this category — silent yet intense, moving through urban spaces, caught in moments of reflection.
They are not just figures on canvas; they are fragments of a story, blending my experiences with the women I’ve met in life. Every brushstroke holds a story, every color reflects an emotion. And no, they never wear impossible heels—these women are strong, not self-destructive.
Women Who Endure, Who Change (Without Complaining Too Much)
I paint women because, to me, they embody resilience. And let’s be honest, resilience isn’t just a trendy word—it’s the ability to face life without completely losing patience.
Their gaze holds strength, even when looking away. Their posture shows determination, even when waiting.
They are symbols of change, adaptability, and survival in a world that always tries to tell them who to be.
I’ve always admired this strength in the women I know: friends, relatives, young and less young women forging their paths with courage. They are mothers, professionals, dreamers—women who reinvent themselves daily, who fall and rise again.
I may not be a mother, but I have my own creation to nurture: my art. And believe me, a painting can be as demanding as a child (and just as messy).
The City: Between Chaos and Coffee Breaks
The women in my paintings belong to no single era. They are contemporary yet timeless, modern yet archetypal.
I paint them in urban landscapes because this is where I see their daily struggles—between chaos and the search for space of their own.
Between traffic jams and reflections in shop windows, silently wondering, “Do I look as tired as I feel today?”
The city is not just a background; it’s part of their identity.
They walk through fragmented spaces, piecing together a sense of self. They are never passive, even when standing still.
Their silence is full of meaning—and let’s be real, if you’ve ever seen a woman give a silent look, you know it speaks volumes.
A Silent Dialogue Between Me and Them (With Some Surprises)
When I paint these women, I often realize they reveal more about me than I expected.
Someone once asked me, “Where do you hide the passion I see in your paintings?” Good question. Maybe between a grocery list and some self-doubt, who knows?
But I do know that the strength, determination, and freedom in my paintings have always been inside me, even when I couldn’t see them.
Maybe that’s why I keep painting them—because they always tell me something new, helping me discover another part of myself.
If my paintings convey anything, I hope it’s this: love for life, courage, passion. And maybe a little reminder that sometimes, we should stop running, take off our shoes, and enjoy a moment of peace.
After all, who decided femininity is measured in inches of heels?
And you?
What do the women in my paintings convey to you? Have you ever seen yourself in one of them?
Tell me in the comments!
