The composition is deliberately simple: a single subject against a dark background. My last scoliosis back brace, with a pothos growing from within.
It's not an object that usually ends up on a canvas, it's a bulky orthopedic device, worn hidden under clothes and carried in silence. But it's also the work of skilled craftsmen who build custom braces by hand.
I wanted to paint it like something beautiful, something worth remembering. The fabric wrapped around it is the undershirt I wore every day between my skin and the brace, to protect myself from wounds and abrasions, and also included for the play of light and shadow and the dynamism of its diagonal.
I've worn braces since I was eleven. At twenty-three, after a follow-up visit, I chose this brace over spinal surgery and wore it until a few months ago, when my curve finally stabilised.
I started painting it some month after, but while I painted I could still feel the dull ache in my sternum from years of compression. A bridge between everything I lived through and a new way of being grateful for it.
The pothos climbs supports to grow, much like my spine did for years, leaning on the brace to keep from curving further.
This is not a painting about pain. It's a painting to say thanks and to share a part of myself that had been hidden for years.
