There came a point in my divorce journey when fear, loss, and a constant feeling of being overwhelmed began to fade. In their place, a sense of adventure, possibility, and excitement slowly emerged. Memories of the past started to overlap with hopes for the future in the most unexpected way. I could be slightly sad or melancholic and hopeful and optimistic at the same time. I could miss my previous life and start to build a new one.

It was a very special season because, for the first time, the lack of stability felt exciting rather than frightening. I knew I was moving forward, even though I had no idea where the path would lead or what my future would look like.

It became a time to explore new directions in my personal life, creative work, and teaching. I joined different meet-up groups, expanded my circle of friends, and said yes to experiences and opportunities I might not have considered before.

Everything felt possible. I was curious about life again - and about the people I was meeting along the way.

Second half of 2020 – beginning of 2021. During the day, I stayed busy taking care of the kids - the logistics, activities, playdates, lunches, dinners, hugs, and bedtimes. But at night, the fear would emerge.

Where would we live? Would the kids be okay? How would I manage everything - logistically, emotionally, financially, and professionally? How would the kids split their time between two homes? Would I be single forever? Would I ever smile again? Laugh again? Love again?

Even with all those fears, I knew I had to stay calm and steady around my kids. I wanted to show them, by example, that we would find our way through this.

So I pointed out the brighter side of life - the generosity of so many people, the kindness that surrounded us, and the beauty hidden in everyday moments.

And it made the difference! Slowly, but surely, life became lighter and more hopeful.

Summer 2020. At the beginning of our separation and eventual divorce, the twenty-year chapter I had shared with my ex-husband came to an end, and I found myself without a clear direction. The best advice I received was simple: take it one hour, one day at a time.

I felt lost and consumed by grief. Life felt heavy and dark, and I couldn’t imagine things ever changing. There were so many questions and no answers. The discomfort was intense and lasted for months. Uncertainty became a part of daily life.

Gradually, each challenge I overcame built my trust in myself - in my abilities, my resilience, and my strength. Every decision I made on my own felt like a small celebration of the person I was becoming. With each new stage I reached, I caught a glimpse of the future and began to believe that I would find my way forward!

This personal work reflects the emotions I experienced in the early stages of my divorce process.

At the beginning of that journey, my days were filled with overwhelm, confusion, and pain. I could see enormous waves of change approaching, and there was no way to escape them, no way to change course, and no way to avoid what was coming. The only option was to surrender and move through it.

What I didn’t know during that pandemic summer of 2020 was that, after years of profound grief, a new path would emerge.

What I didn’t know was that I would find a way forward—logistically, emotionally, creatively, professionally, and in countless other ways.

What I didn’t know was that I would grow comfortable being on my own for three and a half years, exploring relationships along the way, but not yet ready for a committed partnership.

What I didn’t know was that my relationship with my current partner would be so much sweeter and more precious because of everything I had lived through. I value it more deeply because I understand how fragile and meaningful love can be.

What I didn’t know was that I would build a new life - one that feels even more fulfilling, joyful, and aligned than the life I had before.

Each painting will be accompanied by an essay on where I was in my life journey. Similar to the essays that accompany my comics. The essays are coming from a place of reflection, healing, and moving forward.

The first ideas for these paintings appeared in the fall of 2024, about a year and a half ago. Progress was incredibly slow, and over the course of the year, I completed only three final paintings. The project wasn’t moving forward. The paintings felt disjointed and unrelated.

Eventually, I decided to approach this project the same way I would approach a book or thesis project. I printed out all 8–10 sketches and looked at them together as a group.

Seeing everything side by side helped me identify the visual language, color palettes, and the flow from one image to the next. It also made it easier to recognize which pieces didn’t belong and which needed adjustments. Most importantly, it became much easier to receive feedback from my fellow illustrator friends.

The most unsettling part of creating a new body of work is that it has never existed before. There’s no roadmap and nothing to reference. You create the rules and parameters as you go, hoping the work will eventually feel coherent, cohesive, and meaningful to the viewer. It will inspire the viewers and make them feel something.

This beginning-middle stage of the process is truly terrifying. The excitement of the first idea has faded, and now the doubts begin to surface. Who needs this work? Will anyone care? What is the point of it all? What is the point of art? Of creativity?

It’s important to remember that this stage always exists. I’ve experienced it with other projects before, and I’ve made it through. I pushed through the doubts then, and I will again. Work created from a vulnerable, emotional, and honest place will eventually find its audience.

During the academic year, my mental and physical capacity for personal creative work is limited because so much of my energy goes into teaching and helping my students grow in their skills and abilities.

Summer is the time to stay focused — and finally bring many of these paintings to life!!!