Archetypes

She is admired, but not heard. The Silent Muse speaks to how women have long been seen as inspiration—but rarely recognized as creators. Especially in the art world, their ideas are borrowed, their voices muted, their genius attributed elsewhere.

From a distance, she appears flawless. But step closer, and the illusion fractures. Rough brushstrokes reveal the truth: perfection is an illusion. The Idol reminds us that those we revere are human too, and that our beauty lies not in flawlessness, but in authenticity.

A woman burns her way out of the societal box, igniting the collapse of imposed roles. The cardboard—both canvas and cage—symbolizes the fragility of these constraints. Through layered wax and raw texture, The Unbound becomes a declaration of self-liberation.

Shards of stained glass and wax form a fractured ascent. Glass Ceiling confronts the tension of ambition in corporate culture—particularly for women. Is she rising through the barrier, or being cut by it? The piece asks: what do we lose in the climb?

Blind Eye weaves pages from The Handmaid’s Tale, A Room of One’s Own, and The Scarlet Letter to explore how women are conditioned to look away from injustice. As Margaret Atwood wrote: “Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance—you have to work at it.”

A vibrant young girl shines through deep black carvings—bright but fractured. The Inner Child reflects on the wonder we lose as we grow older. It is a reminder to seek joy, curiosity, and new experiences before the weight of the world silences them.

Fragmented and layered like stained glass, The Masquerade depicts two overlapping faces—one hiding the other. It speaks to the roles we perform to meet expectations, and the quieter self that waits behind the mask. 

Split by the weight of expectation, The Juggler captures the fractured self of modern womanhood, constantly shifting between roles. Beneath the surface: fatigue, resilience, and a quiet chaos held together by will alone.

A woman’s form dissolves—adult to child to embryo. Sweetie confronts how society infantilizes women, reducing power to palatability. Beneath its vibrant surface lies a quiet undoing: the erasure of maturity in favor of control masked as affection.

She poses with elegance and poise—but not for herself. Sexy confronts how women’s sexuality is often shaped by outside eyes: celebrated, commodified, and consumed without consent. It asks: who defines “sexy,” and who benefits?

She reaches upward, bathed in light and expectation. Madonna explores the impossible standard of perfection placed on women—pure, selfless, nurturing, strong—always radiant, never flawed. A modern icon cracked by pressure.

She turns toward him—not in curiosity, but in conditioned deference. Submiss explores the ingrained expectation that women yield to male authority: in voice, in presence, in posture. Even in abstraction, the imbalance is clear.

A woman’s face shines—contained within the outline of a man. Success questions who gets credit, and at what cost. It speaks to the invisible labor of women behind male achievement: shaping, supporting, building—and being erased.

She floats, radiant and unknowable. Venus plays with the myth that women are fundamentally different—too emotional, too soft, too distant to understand. But this difference isn’t truth—it’s a construct used to keep women in orbit, never centered.

She is stunning—on the outside. Beneath the perfect face lies something distorted, even unsettling. Beauty reveals a harsh truth: society often places value on external beauty over internal substance and character.

Her mouth is twisted—not in joy, but in resignation. Smile exposes the emotional cost of being told to look pleasant, no matter the truth within. It’s a portrait of performative femininity, where beauty becomes a burden, and silence is mistaken for grace.