acrylic/gold & copper leaf on canvas.
size 120cm x 60cm
This painting poured out of me like a prayer—a whisper, a cry, and a vow all woven into one breath. Save the Children came from a place beyond language, a space in my chest that pulses with the ache of knowing and the fire of remembrance.
I laid down the copper first—earth, womb, the ancestral body that holds all pain and all potential. Then came the gold, not just as a symbol of preciousness, but as a field of light: a sanctuary, a sacred space. I wanted it to be the place where children could exist freely, wildly, in play—untouched by harm, watched over by stars.
The figures—etched delicately yet defiantly—are children holding hands in a circle. They rise from the gold like shadows made of light, weightless and eternal. Some are visible, some fading. Some are barely there, but I feel every single one of them. They are souls waiting to be protected, voices needing to be heard. They remind me that innocence is not a commodity—it is sacred.
Above them, a spiral star swirls through the red sky—both a portal and a warning. It holds space, but it also demands attention. I see it as the eye of spirit, watching us, asking: Will you rise? Will you care? Will you remember why you came?
I inscribed the words Save the Children faintly across the copper ground, almost as if they were whispered through the soil itself. This work is not passive. It is an invocation, a stand, and an offering. In creating it, I made a silent promise: I will not look away.
This painting is my devotion. My protest. My love. My remembering.



























