The Story of the Vibrant Woman: When Art Emerges from Grief and Insomnia
Some of my most powerful artwork has been born in the quiet hours between midnight and dawn. "The Vibrant Woman" is one of those pieces—created during a sleepless night while nine months pregnant, inspired by a photograph from one of the most difficult trips of my life.
THE PHOTOGRAPH: FINDING COLOR IN GRIEF
The story begins over a decade ago in Guatemala, where I was handling my mother's affairs after she passed away. It was one of the hardest trips I'd ever taken, yet somehow I found color even in those dark moments.
I photographed a woman I was buying food from—her hands moved with incredible speed and precision, yet she carried herself with such timidity. Watching her work, I couldn't help but think of my grandmother, the woman who raised me for the first four years of my life before I moved away and wouldn't see her again for over twenty years. That would be our last meeting.
This deep longing for my grandmother is why I'm constantly drawn to photographing elderly people. There's something about their stories, their presence, that seems to connect me to my roots.
THE 2 AM CREATION: ART BORN FROM RESTLESSNESS
Fast forward to 2016. I was heavily pregnant, restless, and working on pieces for my upcoming "Fragments" series exhibition. The baby's nighttime movements made sleep impossible, but having my studio in the house meant I could escape to create when the world was quiet.
It was 2 am when I noticed an experimental photo print that had failed earlier that week. Instead of discarding it (I rarely throw art away—you never know what might become), I saw potential. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, but that piece seemed to be daring me to make it work.
Without a plan, I grabbed it and went to town. I started cutting, gluing with archival materials, and painting. The realistic photograph of this endearing older woman began merging with an abstract background that wasn't abstract to me—I was pulling colors directly from her vibrant dress, muting them slightly so she would stand out.
The focus became her downward stare and her deliberately incomplete hands. To me, she looked like she was jumping out of the frame. Just like that, she was born, and I could finally sleep.
THE UNEXPECTED SUCCESS
"The Vibrant Woman" wasn't meant to be a main piece in my exhibition. I positioned it as an ending piece, a bridge to my next series. I didn't think much about my little middle-of-the-night creation.
But she was the first piece to sell at the show.
She was also the piece that took the least amount of time to make—my loosest work, created with no strings attached, no pressure, just pure creative flow. In the weeks following the exhibition opening, people kept asking about the Vibrant Woman. Both collectors who owned my work and those who had never purchased anything from me wanted to know her story.
THE ARTISTIC EVOLUTION
What struck me most was how this piece represented a shift in my work. The colors weren't as muted as my typical palette. She lived up to her name—truly vibrant. I was using colors outside my normal range because my life and art were colliding in new ways. My growing love of color was pushing aside the darkness that had always been present in my work.
This wasn't just about technique; it was about personal transformation. Becoming a mother was changing not just my life, but my artistic voice.
VIBRANT WOMAN 2.0: SCALING UP THE VISION
By late 2017, my son and I had found our rhythm. He was allowing me more studio time, content to play while I worked. I decided to create larger versions of some of my original "Fragments" pieces, and "The Vibrant Woman" was at the top of the list.
But I knew this wouldn't be a simple scaling up. When I recreate smaller pieces on a larger scale, they take on their own life. They're never duplicates—they're reinterpretations, conversations between past and present selves.
The new version isn't a traditional collage, though collaged elements remain. The paint is bolder, more true to the "vibrant" name. She's not finished yet—but I'll know when she is.
THE DEEPER MEANING
"The Vibrant Woman" represents the intersection of memory, loss, and hope. She embodies the grandmother I missed, the cultural connections I'm always seeking, and the unexpected beauty that emerges from our darkest moments.
This piece taught me that some of our most authentic work happens when we stop trying to control the outcome. When we're tired, vulnerable, and just following our instincts—that's when real art happens.
WHAT’S NEXT
This piece continues to evolve, just like my relationship with grief, memory, and creativity. She's become a touchstone for understanding how personal history shapes artistic expression.
The woman in the photograph probably had no idea she would become part of my artistic journey, a bridge between my past and future, between loss and creation.
What do you think about "The Vibrant Woman"? Have you ever created something meaningful during a difficult time in your life? I'd love to hear your story in the comments below.
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