SPECTRA Exploring Neurodiverse Art at Franklin & Marshall College

What is neurodiversity?

The term neurodiversity, first used by Australian sociologist Judy Singer, grew out of the Autism Rights Movement of the 1990s and was originally intended to reframe Autism as a strengths-first condition. Today, the term is commonly used as an identifier for people whose brain works in ways traditionally considered atypical. Neurodiversity can include psychiatric conditions, learning disabilities and other conditions, such as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autism Spectrum Disorder, and Tourette Syndrome.

Despite the now-broadened lens of neurodiversity, the intention to prioritize the strengths of neurodiverse individuals remains: people experience and engage with the world in different ways; there is no right way of thinking, learning, and acting. Diversity is viewed as different, not deficient.

Compiled by Amy Faust, F&M Learning Support Specialist

The intention of this exhibition is to implement a creative space to celebrate the artwork of students on campus who identify as neurodivergent. Creating art is a common thread between these students who use art to express themselves and, in some pieces, directly reflect their neurodivergence. Students with diverse cognitive expressions were encouraged to submit their work as part of this exhibition.

A group of talented students that span academic years have created this exhibition with a variety of mediums including painting, drawing, photography, printmaking, and even the artistic display of insects. This cohort of students major in a variety of disciplines including creative arts, humanities, and the sciences, interests which have informed their artworks. The exhibition development team appreciates that the students were willing to share their work with us and the campus and local community while continuing their rigorous academic schedule.

In collaboration with PMA staff, The Office of Student Accessibility Services (SAS), the Learning Support Specialist, Deaf and Disabled Student Union (DDSU), and Active Minds helped to advise the student artists and organize the exhibition and related programming. Thank you for your suppor

Two of the exhibiting artists shared why they self-identify as neurodivergent.
Brandon Webb

I identify as neurodivergent because I have ADHD. That means that my brain works differently than other people's. I struggle with focus and attention, I’m hyperactive and can’t sit still when I need to, and often enough I find myself at the end of a sentence when I don’t quite remember how I got there.

But it doesn’t stop me from doing great things. I also have strengths like creativity and hyperfocus. I’m more attentive to the small details often overlooked. It's a part of who I am, and I've realized that if I should embrace that, then I can use this unique perspective of mine and develop skills to navigate life more effectively. Neurodiversity is about recognizing that there's value in our differences, and truth be told? I love being different.

Images courtesy of the artist.

Josh Kulak

I was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum in January of 2023, after years of chronic depression. My identity as neurodivergent is quite new and complex, primarily because I struggle with the term from a biological vs. sociological perspective. I unquestionably make connections, go through the world, struggle in an academic context, and understand things fundamentally differently than a great number of people. And the ways in which I do so, put me clearly within the diagnostic category of autism. But the idea that there is a “neurotypical standard” speaks more to functioning ability within societally constructed expectations than it does any biological reality. I understand and appreciate the value of the term in the formation of supportive communities, but am concerned by the potential for it to fall once again negatively into the human needs of categorization, as well as some individuals use of it to excuse inaction against larger oppressive systems. The question for me thus becomes how can we, as a society, create an environment in which the vast diversity of neurological experiences all have the opportunity to thrive? And how can we ensure neurodivergent activism is intertwined with larger efforts to dismantle what bell hooks termed “imperialist white supremacist patriarchy”?

Image courtesy of the artist.

Yingtong (Viola) Yao

Sometimes it’s not easy to explain why people have a momentary spark of memory and consciousness. Consciousness is like a stream. It may follow a flower, a dead tree, a tear or a smile, then flow to a star, and finally it may circle around something specific and return to the eyes. Most of the time this stream may be black, but it will suddenly shine with light somewhere. But all stories happen in our own minds. Stories are UNIQUE and so is consciousness. I want all of these photographs to inspire the viewer to tap into an underlying sense of self. The touch doesn’t have to be tangible, but the awareness and memories in the mind will form images to be played. And these are meaningful.

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Yingtong (Viola) Yao. Shape of consciousness (diptych), Fall 2023. Digital photo, 24 x 27”.
Yingtong (Viola) Yao. The Blue Eye, Spring 2023. Digital photo, 24 x 19 1/4”.
Yingtong (Viola) Yao. In Between, Fall 2022. Digital photo, 19 x 24”.

Yingtong (Viola) Yao. Whispering Summer, Summer 2023. Short film; 3 minutes, 2 seconds.

What was the inspiration for this work?

One day, when I was lying on the bed, the idea of the first piece, Shape of Consciousness, came out. In the dark room, my hands were shining, so as my mind. It was unconscious. However, it was also conscious that I raised my hands up towards the window, trying to touch the light. Sometimes it's not easy to explain why people have a momentary spark of memory and consciousness. Consciousness is like a stream. It may follow a flower, a dead tree, a tear or a smile, then flow to a star, and finally it may circle around something specific and return to the eyes.

The second work was completed as me wandering in a park in summer 2023. The idea came from the “lecture” given by the master of the ritual Mandala. Manda means the nature in the context of Sanskrit, and la means gaining. Thus, Mandala is the word of gaining from the nature. In Buddhism, it is also the word indicating the buddha’s supreme perception. In Buddhism, everything is changing because of the ideology of Dependent Origination and Emptiness (缘起性空). In other words, things exist in the world because of destiny and finally gone as time goes by. In general, there is nothing that can exist forever. To be specific, men will die and flowers will perish. All the sand used during the ritual Mandala will be spread away to the nature (in rivers or certain lands) in the end of the ritual. Work 2 emphasizes the relation of things and the nature in the idea of Dependent Origination and Emptiness. Natural landscapes have more inherent freedom in their birth and disappearance compared to humans. In general, all things are destined to be free due to "Dependent Origination and Emptiness" - free to appear and free to depart.

The last work, In Between, was made when I was in Denmark. I was passing by a window down a street. I was physically in between different countries and mentally in between different cultures and life choices. I was touched by that moment. Stories are unique, so is consciousness. The touch doesn't have to be tangible, but the awareness and memories in the mind will form images to be played. And these are meaningful.

Serena Almy

My work uses screen printing as the medium. I resonate with this medium because of the assembly line nature of the process and how it allows me to experiment with graphic design elements. These works engage with my interests. Whenever I watch Alice in Wonderland, I always relate to Alice's curiosity and confusion about the world and her adventurous spirit. As for the solar system trio, I’ve always loved space, hence my major in astrophysics. I remember the solar system, naturally, being the first astronomy lesson in preschool for which I became tantalized by the cosmos. Expressing my interests through art has allowed me to absorb them more because of the slow nature of the process. It has been a joy working with this medium.

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Serena Almy. Alice Allured, ed. 1/5, 2022–2023. Screenprint, 14 x 11”.
Serena Almy. Solar System Sampler: Moon, ed. 1/4, 2022–2023. Screenprint, 11 x 15”.
Serena Almy. Solar System Sampler: Sun, ed. 1/4, 2022–2023. Screenprint, 11 x 15”.
Serena Almy. Solar System Sampler: Neptune, ed. 1/3, 2022–2023. Screenprint, 11 x 15”.

Anna Waldstein-Torres

My work is inspired by my experiences of fixation and interest in my youth, and how these passions follow me into adulthood. As a child, my time was filled with American Girl Dolls, even in juvenile photography and film. As an adult, my heart still has a place for them, the echo of my time focused on the dolls keeping me company. I’m interested in the way fixation and interest last for neurodivergent individuals such as myself, and I hope to portray that permanence of affection through my work, Double Doll.

My work is also inspired by the vibrance of the community I am surrounded by here at F&M. The peers captured in these images, compiled to create Quilt, are the brightest lights in my life, the most colorful souls. A big influence on my work is the joy and exuberance that they bring to the creative space and everyday life. I’m interested in representing these dear friends in saturated, monochrome images. I hope this quilt of companions brings to life the joy and colorful brilliance that these individuals bring to the world, and that viewers see them just as brightly as I do.

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Anna Waldstein-Torres. Double Doll, October 11, 2022. Archival Inkjet print, 21 3/8” x 19 3/4”.
Anna Waldstein-Torres. Quilt, November 20, 2022. Archival Inkjet, 35 5/8” x 35 1/2”.

Brandon Webb

My journey as a photographer has been woven with the intricate tapestry of identity, and my personal struggle with Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) has been a significant thread in this narrative. My lens has become more than a mere tool for capturing images; it’s a medium for me to navigate the multifaceted aspects of who I am. ADHD has shaped my creative process in profound ways, challenging me to find focus amidst the constant whirlwind of thoughts and ideas. Through the art of photography, I’ve learned to embrace the ebb and flow of my mind, transforming perceived challenges into unique perspectives that infuse my work with energy and dynamism.

My photography isn’t just a documentation of the world, it’s a philosophy that encourages viewing the world through different lenses. I firmly believe that every individual and place holds a distinct story, waiting to be unveiled. My ADHD has equipped me with a heightened ability to see beyond the surface and capture the fleeting moments that others might overlook. Through my lens, I aim to break down barriers, challenge stereotypes, and celebrate diversity. I invite viewers to embrace the diverse ways of experiencing and interpreting the world, just as I have learned to embrace the vivid spectrum of my own mind. In a world often divided by differences, my work strives to bring people together, encouraging them to discover beauty and significance in the myriad perspectives that surround us. My photography invites others to embark on a journey of self-discovery and empathy, urging them to explore the world with an open heart and an understanding of the unique perspectives that both ADHD and photography offer.

On the Rooftop (Brandon Webb), February 2023. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 6 x 4”. Photo taken by Spencer Lane.

Taken from the top of a parking garage at sunset, this portrait is a reflection of my personal identity. It is a representation of how much I control the perception of myself, how much I show others and how little I actually reveal.

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Brandon Webb. Devil’s Ivy, February 2023. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 6 x 4”.

The plant photographed is identified by many names including golden pothos, Ceylon creeper, hunter’s robe, ivy arum, house plant, silver vine, Solomon Islands ivy, and taro vine. It is also called devil’s vine or devil’s ivy because it is almost impossible to kill and it stays green even when kept in the dark. I took this picture at a friend’s home; I remember admiring the rich green color and wanting to immortalize the life in the leaves.

Brandon Webb. The Painted Palette, October 2022. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 6 x 4”.

This unique assembly of painted works caught my attention right away. Found in a Lancaster local's antique collection, each painting is crafted with the most intriguing level of detail. These three works in particular are prime examples of the eye of an artist.

Brandon Webb. Open Road, October 2022. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 4 x 6”.

This photo was taken out in the countryside as we drove through southern Pennsylvania. The roads seemingly stretch out forever, while the sky remains clouded and hidden from view.

Brandon Webb. Fabled Fabergé, October 2022. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 11 x 8”.

Trio of Fabergé eggs found in a Lancaster local’s collection of antiques. The eggs appear in three colors: white, blue, and green, and are decorated with images fitting a Christmas holiday theme.

Brandon Webb. L.A. Sticker Bombing, October 2022. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 8 x 11”.

It’s possible you may have seen it on street lamps and mailboxes out on the sidewalk. They call it “Sticker Bombing”, where artists and creatives cover surfaces with stickers to promote their identities. It would be impossible to miss them when visiting Los Angeles.

Brandon Webb. Little Tokyo Hotel, June 2023. Aqueous Inkjet on satin photo paper, 11 x 8”.

I discovered this establishment while exploring the Little Tokyo Historic District in downtown Los Angeles. It’s popularly known as a historic lodging place, conveniently located in the heart of Little Tokyo. Although the entrance was inviting, I didn’t get the chance to explore within.

What drives you to be an artist or to create art? Have you shared your work before? Where? When? Did that experience/s change anything about why, how, where, when, you create art?

As an artist, my drive to create art is deeply rooted in my need for self-expression and my passion for visual storytelling. Art allows me to convey my thoughts, emotions, and perspectives in a unique and personal way. It's a means of connecting with the world and sharing my inner world with others.

I've shared my work on various occasions and in different settings. Over the years, I've exhibited my art in local galleries, participated in group shows, and even had the opportunity to showcase my work at some community events. I've also created an online portfolio to reach a wider audience, sharing my art through social media, websites, and art platforms.

These experiences of sharing my work have significantly influenced my artistic journey. They've opened me up to diverse interpretations and feedback from viewers, which has been both inspiring and humbling. Constructive critiques have encouraged me to refine my techniques and experiment with new mediums. The appreciation and connections I've made through sharing my art have been motivating and have reinforced my commitment to being an artist.

Honestly, it’s all led me to be more thoughtful about my creative process. I try to create art with a clearer sense of purpose, taking into consideration how it will resonate with people while still staying true to my artistic vision. I've also learned the value of patience and persistence, recognizing that growth as an artist is an ongoing journey. The act of sharing my work has transformed my art from apersonal endeavor into a means of communication and connection with others, and I savor every moment of this artistic exploration.

And that’s the truth. My truth.

Josh Kulak

I have always found it easier to relate to and understand animals than people; a sentiment that has driven most of my life thus far. However, my recent focus on insects and their relatives is newer. The idea of developing art with them, newer for me still. I have always considered and defined myself as a scientist before an artist, but in the preservation of these simultaneously reviled and breathtakingly beautiful life forms, I am forced to question that definition. It is my hope that “Out of an Order, Chaos,” which builds off my continuing work with beetles, in turn leads you to begin to question your revulsion towards insects.

I am a Junior and an animal behavior major, set to graduate late in December 2025. In addition to my studies at F&M, I am also a volunteer with both the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University and the North Museum of Nature and Science.

In addition to the Phillips Museum, SAS, and my family and friends, none of this would have been possible without the mentorship, instruction, and kindness of so, so many. Foremost among them are the inimitable Karen Verderame, Molly Wolanski, and Greg Cowper—to them, and so many more, thank you.

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Josh Kulak. Units, 2023. Scarabs, pins, and unit trays in Cornell drawer, 16 1/2 x 19 1/4 x 3”.

The box-like unit trays are the primary means of organizing specimens taxonomically within drawers in research collections. While the “diversity drawer” project is invaluable in sparking wonder, such drawers are more or less useless in an investigative context. Thus, it is worthwhile to show what a true taxonomic organization looks like, and the beauty of curation itself.

Josh Kulak. Inordinate Fondness, 2023. Beetle specimen and Austerlitz entomological pins in Cornell drawer, 16 1/2 x 19 1/4 x 3”.

It is simply impossible to talk about biodiversity without talking about beetles. From some less than a millimeter long to others that can surpass seven inches, the diversity within the roughly 400,000 beetle species, with more being discovered daily, is unparalleled. The display you see before you pulls from six continents and includes representatives from 18 families, but this barely begins to touch the roughly 180 families within the order.

Josh Kulak. The Imperfect Brain, 2023. Frog-legged beetles and Austerlitz entomological pins, and book box in Cornell drawer, 16 1/2 x 19 1/4 x 3”.

We are well acquainted with the concept of individual variation in our own species and our pets, but we rarely take the time to examine it outside those lenses. These “imperfect” Sagra longicollis specimens farmed in Chiang Mai, Thailand, provide a stunning example. The presentation within a book is inspired by the Laurent book boxes in the Academy of Natural Sciences entomology collection.

What was the inspiration for this work?

At its core, the inspiration for this work was diversity and empathy. The driving philosophy of all that I do is that diversity is beautiful, whether biological, neurological, ideological, etc, and that by challenging existing perceptions in the world of insects, it is possible to inspire a kind of empathy that goes far beyond them. If one learns to appreciate even the smallest creatures as beautiful, then one’s entire view of the world shifts.

How do you hope visitors will interact with or respond to your work?

It is my hope to plant seeds of doubt, curiosity, and wonder. More than anything, I hope visitors walk away with questions about the natural world which they are a part of.

What drives you to be an artist or to create art? Have you shared your work before? Where? When? Did that experience/s change anything about why, how, where, when, you create art?

It feels somewhat bizarre to slowly be using the title of artist more and more, as I have always approached the natural world through science first and foremost. And yet, the reality is that neither art or science can exist without one another, and finding a creative outlet for the same insect passion has made me a better scientist. This exhibition is the first in which my art is being put out as art, but I have also displayed pinned specimens in both the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University, and the North Museum of Nature and Science.

Makayla Gayden

I became interested in stippling one day in high school when I was doodling in art class and decided to recreate a picture of a man entirely out of dots. My teacher complimented my work and told me this was called pointillism (or stippling). I started looking it up online and was amazed at how people could create light and shadow just using one pen and tons of dots. I began watching YouTube videos to teach myself the stippling technique.

Lone Singer came to me when I was listening to music, and Dionne Warwick’s song, “Anyone Who Had a Heart” came on. While listening to it, I imagined a woman singing in a lounge. For some reason, she seemed solemn, almost sorrowful, standing there under a spotlight. I decided I wanted to draw it, especially to try my hand in stippling the contrast between light and dark. Woman with Headscarf came to me when I decided to practice drawing faces that were a little more realistic than what I was used to. I have found stippling to be time consuming, but worth it.

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Makayla GaydenLone Singer, 2023. Pigma ink on paper, 14 x 11".
Makayla Gayden. Woman with Headscarf, 2023. Pigma ink on paper, 14 x 11".

Ellie Chiaradonna

As a young girl with dyslexia, I had little confidence in myself, both in the classroom and outside of the classroom. I felt immense discomfort and anxiety in relation to anything academic, even reading from a menu at a restaurant made me feel inferior. From a young age, I used art to express myself and provide myself with comfort and a release of worry. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to use my art to convey powerful messages that I feel my words may be unable to form.

Not only do I learn through art, but I see the world through an artistic lens. Art has helped give each part of my life, and its encounters, beauty and meaning. Each of my pieces is a portrait of someone influential in my life especially in relation to my journey in finding myself as a learner with dyslexia in a society where learning differences are stigmatized and looked down upon. Each painting has a collage aspect to it to put a positive spin on the negative generalization that people with dyslexia cannot read and see letters and words blended together. I intended to have each portrait have a whimsical and magical feel from the use of gold and silver as highlights and dramatized colors to emphasize the impact each of these people have had on my life. They have made my world feel more magical, full of life and valued. I hope each piece in this exhibition provides each one of these change-makers with a warm “Thank You.”

Statement and images courtesy of the artist.

Ellie Chiaradonna. Lifelong Influence, October 2023. Water soluble oil paints and collage on canvas, 20 x 20”.

Before arriving at my new school that is dedicated to teaching students with learning disabilities, I was not confident in myself as a learner. That changed drastically when Ms. Coyne-Green became my teacher. I used vibrant colors to dramatize the portrait in order to express her personality, as she was always smiling, supporting me, and consistently provided me with a sense of comfort at school. Her personality makes everything more exciting; it is magnetic, much like highly pigmented, eye-catching colors.

Through her, I not only gained confidence in my educational career, but also in myself as a young girl. The background of this portrait is collaged with letters. The letter collage is to symbolize one of the biggest impacts Ms. Coyne-Green had on my life; she taught me how to spell. Within the collage, words are hidden. These words are adjectives and characteristics that she instilled in me directly and indirectly.

Ellie Chiaradonna. Guiding Lights, October 2023. Water soluble oil paints and collage on canvas, 20 x 20”.

Growing up as a young girl, I always sought after impactful women who I admired. Mrs. Blair and Mrs. Roberts are examples of strong and empowering women. They saw an issue with the lack of educational opportunities for children who learn differently and the school started AIM Academy to solve the problem. Their perspective changed my life in more ways than anyone could have imagined and continues to brighten the lives of young students struggling to see their worth, ability, and strength in and out of the classroom. In this painting I hope to instill a feeling of hope and empowerment. I collaged the background with stars to represent the symbol in their slogan, “AIM for the stars” as well as emphasizing the light AIM brought into my life.

Ellie Chiaradonna. Molding Me, July 2023. Water soluble oil paints and collage on canvas, 30 x 24”.

When I entered middle school, the way I viewed and valued myself, and the world around me, changed. This piece depicts the woman who altered my understanding of the world around me through art. I learned to value the use of color and understand the power it has in bringing things to life while also evoking intense feelings. I began to see the formation of things almost as if everything around me was made of brush strokes. Things that may, usually, have no meaning to me began to demand admiration and respect as I was able to see the beauty and complexity in their natural form: layered color and the breakdown of what most see as one solid color, abstract shape, fluidity, and more.

Not only did art change my perspective, but it has continued to play a huge role in the way I learn. In this piece I took some of the most influential teachings of Ms. Braccia, and used them to an extreme by emphasizing aspects like the pigment apparent within her skin, and powerful, shiny highlights flowing through her hair. Rather than blocking the portrait with a solid color, I used clippings from a book to collage the background. Layered on top of the collaged book pages, are letters cut from various magazines which form the sentence, “Because of you, I see the world differently, Thank You.” Through the background, I am trying to convey a complex message. On the left side of the brain, the collaged letters are much closer together and almost appear to be crammed, as the letters move to the right side, they space out, and become easier to read. By using the left and right side of the canvas, directly above the head, I am trying to convey that the right hemisphere, the brain, the creative and artistic side, has an extremely important role in my life.

Visual representation of things, and pieces of art themselves, help me break down concepts and ultimately are tools needed to allow me to be an efficient learner. The collaged book pages are to represent the harmful stigma that people with dyslexia cannot read, I set it behind the letters to show that I learn, read, and comprehend differently, but with the use of a beneficial system and tools, I have become aware of myself as a learner and as a young woman. Ms. Braccia taught me the importance of critical thinking in regard to dissecting a visual piece. I made her portrait complex in interpretation as I hope that this requires viewers to stop and think through an artistic lens, much like I do in everyday life to suit my learning style.

Ellie Chiaradonna. My Hero, October 2023. Water soluble oil paints and collage on canvas, 16 x 24”.

Growing up I had a hard time expressing the way I was feeling with words, but art always allowed me to express myself in a creative and articulate way; with this piece I hope to accomplish just that. When I was younger I would wake up early in the morning to go sit with my dad while he completed a multitude of things: drafting emails, grading papers, scheduling meetings, writing blogs, and so much more that was too intricate for my little brain to understand. Regardless of how much I knew about what he was working on, he personified everything I dreamt about being as I grew from a kindergartner to a young woman. Those mornings, I would put on his suit jacket, left on the banister from the night before, and take a spare pair of his glasses. I would grab a coloring book and scribble away next to him.

This two-piece project shows me as a young girl mimicking my dad and my dad years later in the same jacket I dressed up in. I used very dull colors and simple technique in the painting of myself to help give painting, I ripped the canvas and wrote, “I’ve never had the words to tell you.” At the time, I was unable to tell my dad because he also had dyslexia and saw accomplishments like: teaching at Villanova University, graduating from Temple University and moving on to Harvard Business School, and being one of the strongest leaders I know, and I realized that there is nothing about my learning disabilities that can hold me back.

My life is what I make of it. He was my inspiration, and as a young girl who felt unable to meet expectations in the classroom, it helped me form a healthy relationship with myself. The background of this piece is a collage of pages from Junie B. Jones books which my dad read to me before I learned to read. The portrait of my dad is vibrant in color as his presence has had such a remarkable influence on my life. The background is college with a letter to my dad, now that I have the words.

Ellie Chiaradonna. Mirroring Motherhood, August 2023. Water soluble oil paint, mosaic pieces, and collage on canvas, 24 x 24”.

This piece portrays one of the most influential people in my life, my mom. My mom has been one of my biggest supporters since I came into the world. Not only has she been my unwavering cheerleader, but she has become one of the strongest allies to the learning disabilities (LD) community since both her and my dad moved my twin sister and I to a school better suited to teach us.

This piece is vibrant in my use of color as I used bright colors to evoke the feelings of strength, joy, and outspokenness: three qualities my mom instilled in me through her constant guidance and love. I completed the background of this piece by hand gluing triangular mosaic pieces to the canvas after gluing down the sentence “I look for YOU in all of THEM.” The glass pieces that form a mirror-like effect, are meant to convey the message that when I see myself, I aim to see someone who embodies the same values that my mom exhibits on a day-to-day basis. Instead of abstract broken glass bits, I chose to use triangular pieces to symbolize the three children she has, as she tirelessly supports all of us no matter our struggles, and, always, through our successes.

The sentence is meant to emphasize the message that I look for not only the same characteristics in my friends, but also that I look for the allyship she is rooted in, in each person that I surround myself with. The canvas itself is wrapped in the lyrics to the song “The Best Day” by Taylor Swift. Each lyric exemplifies the beauty, selflessness, and warmth my mom has embraced in motherhood. I hope this portrait makes each viewer think of a person who has influenced the standards they hold their friends, family, and significant others to; it is so important to seek allyship.

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