Anu Redway

I started this painting in 2022

Then life happened.

I stopped right here, with this woman rooted in the middle of a red storm, reaching upward while her body became something between a figure and a tree.

I didn’t know it then, but maybe that was the point.

Some things don’t get finished right away because we’re still becoming the person who can finish them.

Before I begin my next series, I’m returning to the unfinished pieces. Not to rush them. Not to force them. Just to listen again.

Considering the meaning, I definitely wasn’t meant to finish it when I started it.

More soon.

Scarcity

Sometimes the hardest thing to release isn’t the person, the place, or the thing itself.

It’s who we believed we were with it.

The version of us that felt chosen.
Needed.
Safe.
Valuable.

And when it’s time to let go, fear starts talking loud.

“What if you never find this again?”
“What if starting over is too hard?”
“What if this was the best you could have?”

But scarcity lies.

It tells us that our worth is attached to what we can keep.
It tells us that releasing something means losing ourselves.
It tells us that beginning again is failure, when sometimes beginning again is mercy.

This piece is about the grip.
The ache of opening your hand when everything in you wants to close it.

But maybe letting go isn’t proof that you lost.

Maybe it’s proof that you’re finally trusting there’s more life on the other side of what you were afraid to release.

Hello everyone, long time no see ♥️. I disappeared for a while to focus on being a part of the greatest art project I’ve ever had the honer, privilege, and blessing to incubate. This is my testimony: My sweet rainbow baby is here. Happy Sunday everyone ♥️