Happy National Lesbian Visibility Day 🏳️‍🌈

It brought up a lot of emotions and feelings for me today.
This will probably be my longest caption ever.

To be blunt - feeling seen can be scary.
 Identifying with a label can be scary.

(Warning: i go a bit deep here & idc)

“Two women can’t possibly have a long-term relationship.” 
The day this opinion was spoken to me... I felt my voice cut out and fall numb. A tightness grew below my chest and went straight to the bone.
I knew then, that I felt unseen.
I also found out that it’s sometimes harder to actually be seen.

Honestly, it’s sometimes quite difficult.  When I came out (and as I continue to come out to people) I’m flooded with ideas of (what will this person think of me now... are they judging me... did their opinion of me change?)

There seems to be a slight hesitation to being fully seen in your light.
Fully seen as a human and not a “stereotype.”
Another honest sentence... I don’t even like the initial word “lesbian.”
I started to like it after learning about the Greek island of “Lesbos” but that’s another story...anyway...I’m flailing here.

I always noticed a space missing as a woman who was interested in other women.
In my own life but mostly in art.
Well to begin, it was comprised mainly of male artists and secondly the subject matter was almost always women. Ironic.  
Anyway...  Art made me feel seen.

It gave me a voice to communicate ideas in a louder way.
I’d draw pictures of actresses or women’s faces and make up excuses that I just liked to paint their “face shape.”
Why did I want to paint them? I’d beat myself up over it again and again.

I used to look at older paintings that men did of women in art school (mostly always men as I said before) and have a slight feeling of jealousy or envy at their ability to paint them.

*sidenote: i know men can paint women beautifully as well*

With that being said, when I viewed the pieces back then they seemed very glazed over and flat.  A simple silhouette that really didn’t have a backstory or a narrative.
Her hips accentuated and a disproportionately shaped body.
What was the meaning?

A woman is more than that.
I felt I had a different lens.
I noticed the gentler, subtle movements.
Picking out slight gradations of skin tone, a curve of the neck, body language.
Feeling something that sank to the deepest part of me.

Bringing this light and airiness to the canvas.
Allowing my heart to paint what it wanted as I allowed myself the same.
My paintings have grown with me over the years.
I will continue to paint what comes through and also what scares me initially.
Those are where the best ideas bear fruit.

Self-Reflection, oil and acrylic on canvas

My ability to express my voice has changed and I am far from being perfect at it.
All I know is I want to be a voice in the fine arts for you wlw out there.  A voice, a gentle whisper, an echo — some semblance of sound.
There is nothing wrong with that soft place beneath your heart space that lights up with pure joy when you see her.

And if you can see parts of your own narratives in my paintings just the slightest bit... I will feel that picking up the brush is worth it.

Sending you love today.

Halie