The Self I Had Forgotten

To me, the gift London has given me is the space to slowly rediscover, through painting, those parts of myself that were once overlooked and never truly cherished.

Again and again, I see the rough marks left by the brush in my hand, while in my ears I still hear a teacher’s voice from my childhood telling me that these were failed brushstrokes.

I keep brushing the canvas, again and again and again, wanting the marks to become rougher still. And somehow, as I continue, the memory of being told that I had failed begins, little by little, to fade.