A HEART THAT REMAINS STRONG

There are moments in life when the pain becomes so unbearable that words fail—when the only way to express it is through color, water, and the trembling breath of a brushstroke. My painting was born from a deeply personal feeling—a reflection on illness, resilience, and the quiet strength of women. It is inspired by two women who have profoundly influenced my life: my grandmother, who battled cancer, and my younger sister, who lives with diabetes every day. Through their experiences, I understood that victory over illness is determined not only by recovery, but also by the courage to continue loving, creating, and living with an open heart.
The central figure of my work—a woman with an open heart—embodies this strength. I painted the heart open, red, and vibrant, not as a symbol of fragility, but as a testament to resilience. The loose hair framing it connects generations of women in my family, reflecting the invisible threads of care, love, and resilience that bind us together.
I chose watercolor as my primary medium for its fluidity and unpredictability. It captures the uncontrollable nature of illness and emotion—how life can blur, bleed, and simultaneously create unexpected beauty. Watercolor demands self-denial; it forces me to trust the process, just as one must trust time and healing. The black acrylic background came later, like the night that always follows day. It frames the light, not limiting it, but emphasizing its radiance. For me, black symbolizes both the emptiness of illness and the depth of life—the space where we confront pain and from which we rise renewed. Against this darkness, the figure appears radiant, her skin exuding the warmth and softness of vitality. This work, depicting a woman with an open heart, symbolizes both of them—and, in many ways, me. She is unbroken, unconquered, though vulnerable. Her heart, painted in vibrant reds with delicate pink veins, beats defiantly. It is imperfect, wounded, and alive. Around it, strands of hair flow like rivers, like genealogies, connecting generations of women who have endured and overcome pain. The female body here is not idealized; it is real, emotional, and sacred. Closed lips symbolize silence, but the painting speaks in color—a quiet but powerful language of resilience.
Creating this work was a kind of healing and the joy of the recovery of my dear women. Each brushstroke became a conversation with them, a way to say, "I see you, I love you, and I carry you." This painting is not only about illness. It is about victory—not a loud and public one, but a deeply personal one. For me, this painting is a celebration of the fragility of life, the indestructibility of love and the indomitable strength that lives in the heart of every woman.