Everything In Me is Complete
“Everything In Me Is Complete”
acrylics on canvas
81 x 100 cm
2020
sold
(incl. VAT 10% for customers within the EU)
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““How would I want each woman to feel when they look at themselves?”, I mused - and then set out to paint that specific feeling.
This series of women clothed in flowers wishes to evoke just that - a sense of joy, of happiness in yourself, of rest within your skin. Of celebration. I believe that’s a resistance we need, one that can’t be denied of us: loving yourself with abandon, accepting the fact that there’s a world of beauty within you, that you are a full, entire being, not lacking anything - worthy of every celebration.
You’re unique, and you’re beautiful. Let them feel the weight of your glory.”
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They see so little of me:
only the surface, only this skin,
only this thin layer
between me and the rest of the world
when within me
there is a whole another world
uncharted, wild, and wondrous,
under my skin
whole universes whirl
with ceaseless beauty
a beauty they’ll never witness
unless they look
deeper than the surface.
I am
a world of wonders.
And in that world
I find life
in those depths
I find meaning
in that truth
I am made
fully complete
ceaselessly
beautiful .
and everything,
everything in me is full
full like the moon,
whole like the sun
the shine of both of them
hidden within my skin.
// KV
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This painting is second in my series of women clad in flowers, carrying the name “Everything In Me Is Complete”.
These paintings stem from something I’ve thought about for a long time now; how living in the female body is both strange and glorious, wonderful and odd.
The female body is wonderful, absolutely miraculous - in all its forms. But living a female life (or a life identifying as a female) rather often is just straightforward risky. It seems that living a free, full life as a woman requires one to develop a specific strength - a specific kind of rootedness. A woman or someone identifying as a woman will be bombarded with questions, criticism, abusive actions of so many sorts, and to withstand that and maintain freedom of the soul requires you to build safety for yourself.
And at the same time we who are born into or are journeying towards the female body know that the body is good. Surely it must be…! Why would be be living in these bodies otherwise? The body must be created good. The very things criticised in it are good, full and whole - even if they’re not seen as such. The body is our home - our safe haven. From my spiritual point of view I see the body - both female and male (and everything in between) - also as holy. God created us good, and that original purpose stays in us, even in this broken world.
My journey as an artist began in a situation when I witnessed someone dear to me go through breast cancer. She had to accept the sudden, uncontrollable way her body changed. Surgery can feel difficult to accept; suddenly the body you knew doesn’t exist anymore, and does not necessarily match the cultural expectations set for a female form. True, surgery can sometimes correct that - but the scars will remain.
For many of us, something similar might happen even without a cancer journey. The expectations set for us are near impossible to reach; in a world of digitally altered images and digitally created supermodels the photos we are forced to see become more and more alienating. It’s all too easy to succumb to the comparison game, or even worse - to self criticism of even self hatred. And no wonder: hardly anything is so openly criticised than the female body, or so blatantly monitored, regulated.
This dualism bothers me - but I’ve decided to turn it into inspiration. I sense there can be and must be a freedom for the female to step outside of the broken cultural norms and just… be true within herself, be full and present within herself. All this has evoked in me a need to bring forth my own understanding of how we should be seen - of how we could see ourselves. I’ve had a need in me to paint a feeling - a feeling of acceptance, of celebration, of joy.
“How would I want each woman to feel when they look at themselves?”, I mused - and then set out to paint that specific feeling. This series of women clothed in flowers wishes to evoke just that - a sense of joy, of happiness in yourself, of rest within your skin. Of celebration. I believe that’s a resistance we need, one that can’t be denied of us: loving yourself with abandon, accepting the fact that there’s a world of beauty within you, that you are a full, entire being, not lacking anything - worthy of every celebration.
In a world hell-bent to restrict and diminish the feminine, you have a right to exist fully just as you are; bravely, and what's even more important: you have every right to find joy in being yourself. And you MUST. It’s the most glorious way to fight the oppressive and destructive forces around us.
You're unique, and you're beautiful. Let them feel the weight of your glory.
This series, titled “Awakening”, wishes to speak of this. I chose to paint the women without clothing, because that’s what we are underneath all our disguises. We come to this world naked, and that reality in us therefore must be good. It’s what is meant to be. The naked feminine form is over-sexualised in our culture to the extent that we sometimes become alienated with our own reality. Taking that back feels like an absolute necessity. We have the right to accept ourselves and simply love what we are.
Another conscious choice for me has been to cover some parts of these women with flowers. There’s a lot of symbolism in it - the themes of blossoming, blooming, and of beauty - but I also wanted for us to not know everything about them and their bodies.
Maybe they have stretch marks in their stomachs, reminding of the children they carried. Maybe they have stretch marks in their bodies, reminding of all the growth they’ve experienced. Maybe they have other scars, reminders of moments of change, or of pain. Maybe their stomachs are soft and fold beautifully, maybe not. Maybe their breasts have wrinkles, maybe not. Maybe their breasts have scars. Maybe one is missing? Maybe they have dark circles under their eyes, maybe not. Maybe they do not usually walk themselves but use a wheelchair. Maybe they see with their eyes, maybe they prefer to feel things with their fingers. Maybe they hear with their ears, maybe they prefer to speak with their hands. Maybe their skin is even, or maybe it has an unique kind of beauty written in it through changes in coloration or texture.
And whatever is their truth, they’re complete - full, entire, worthy, loved, celebrated.
I wanted to - as much as the method allows - to leave room for interpretation; to give these women some quality of the mirror. My wish is that we all could look at ourselves this way, through the eyes of deep peace, contentment, and joy -
for a woman, at rest in herself, will change her life;
and women, lifting each other, will change the world.