Why I Paint Women: Stories of Strength, Resilience, and Identity

There’s something undeniably powerful about a woman’s presence. It’s not just in the way she moves or carries herself, but in the quiet moments of strength, in the resilience woven into her story, and in the way she keeps going—despite it all. That’s what I paint.

For me, painting women isn’t just about capturing beauty; it’s about telling stories that often go unnoticed. It’s about creating a space where every woman, regardless of where she comes from, can see a reflection of herself—her power, her struggles, her dreams—on canvas.

A Journey Across Borders and Back to Myself

My life has been anything but conventional. I’ve lived in nine countries, each one shaping my understanding of culture, femininity, and human connection. From the directness of Dutch culture to the deep-rooted traditions of India, I’ve seen how women navigate their worlds—some with confidence, others with quiet strength, and many with battles no one else can see.

Moving so often meant constantly adapting, but one thing remained unchanged: my fascination with the women around me. I watched how they handled joy, pain, and expectations. How they found ways to carve out space for themselves, even in societies that tried to limit them.

I never studied art in a formal institution. I wasn’t told I had the "right" to paint or that I should pursue this path. But in 2011, I picked up a brush and started painting women. And I haven’t stopped since.

More Than a Face—A Story in Every Stroke

When I paint, I don’t just focus on physical features. I go deeper, layering emotions into each piece. My women have bold expressions, intense eyes, and a presence that demands attention. They are raw, real, and sometimes unapologetically intense.

Because let’s be honest—women are not fragile beings meant to be confined to soft pastels and delicate brushstrokes. We are fire and depth. We carry history in our skin, in our gazes, in the lines of our hands. We are complex, and that’s exactly what I want my art to show.

One of my most striking pieces, After Life Game, tells a story of exhaustion and resilience. The painting shows a woman lying on a tennis court, her body stretched out, resting, but not defeated. She has just played her game—physically, emotionally, metaphorically. She may be catching her breath, but there’s a quiet determination in her presence, a moment of reflection before she rises again.

This piece isn’t just about a tennis match; it’s about every woman who has ever given her all and found herself at the edge of exhaustion. It’s about the pause before the next move, the acknowledgment that rest is not weakness but a necessary part of resilience.

Art as a Conversation

Over the years, my paintings have sparked conversations with women from all over the world. Some see themselves in my work. Others tell me their stories of resilience and survival, of love and loss, of breaking barriers and redefining their own worth.

One story that has stayed with me is that of a woman I met in the Netherlands. Her father wanted her to study politics, to follow a secure, respected path. But from the time she was a little girl, she knew her passion was in the kitchen. Cooking was more than just making meals—it was her way of expressing herself, of creating something that made people feel something.

Despite the pressure to conform, she took a different route. She enrolled in culinary school, faced years of proving herself in a male-dominated industry, and eventually became a chef. Today, she runs her own restaurant, crafting dishes that tell her story—bold, full of heart, and unapologetically hers.

Her journey is the kind I paint. A woman who listened to her own voice, who dared to step outside the expectations placed on her, and who built a life rooted in her passion.

Painting Bold, Living Bold

I paint women because I see their stories, and I want the world to see them too. I want my work to be a mirror, a reminder, a statement. Whether it’s in a gallery, on a collector’s wall, or shared across social media, I hope my paintings make people pause and feel something—maybe even recognize a piece of themselves in the brushstrokes.

So, to every woman who has ever felt unseen, unheard, or underestimated, this art is for you.

Your strength deserves to be painted bold.