An empty womb and a hand full of flowers explores my evolving relationship with the idea of motherhood, shaped by a PCOS diagnosis and a complicated history with food - both of which mean fertility may not be a straightforward or guaranteed part of my future.

Choosing Frida Kahlo as the subject was intentional. Her work openly confronted the body, pain, identity, and reproductive loss in ways that were unfiltered and deeply human. She represents a kind of emotional honesty I’ve been drawn to and the courage to depict vulnerability without romanticising it.

The oversized flower becomes a symbol of potential rather than certainty. It represents growth, possibility, and our imagined futures; at the same time, the flower carries the weight of something heavier. Holding it isn’t entirely effortless; much like holding the idea of motherhood when the outcome feels unknown and out of my control.

There’s also a quieter narrative about body trust. Recovery has meant relearning how to care for my body while accepting that it may not always align with expectations I once held.

Ultimately, this work isn’t about whether motherhood will or won’t happen. It’s about living in the unknown, making peace with complexity, and allowing space for hope without forcing certainty. Like much of my practice, it sits in that in-between place where identity, healing, and future possibility intersect.