Sister Nr. 2

I painted these for my sisters.

We no longer speak.

The silence between us has lasted five years. But in truth, I have come to understand that the distance did not begin five years ago — it has echoed quietly through my entire life. I believed we were bound by love. I have since learned that love and blood are not always the same thing.

Two of them are full sisters to each other. I stand as the half-sister. The in-between. The almost.

So why paint them at all?

Because even when we come from the same roots, we do not grow the same way. We may share features, history, or a name — but we are entirely different souls. These women in the paintings do not resemble my sisters physically. They are symbolic. They represent how people can look connected on the surface, yet carry completely different inner worlds.

Painting them was painful. Every brushstroke carried grief. But it was also healing. Art gave me a space to process what words never could.

Perhaps one day we will find our way back to each other.
Perhaps we won’t.

For now, I choose peace.
I choose truth.
I choose myself