Why I Chose Art to Express What Words Couldn't

Art has always been quietly woven into my life, like background music I didn't fully notice until the silence became too loud. Growing up, it was just something I did, something always there. But it wasn't until I faced one of the most intense and vulnerable moments of my life, a high-risk pregnancy during the peak of COVID, that I truly understood what art could do for me. 

The world felt uncertain. My body, my mind, my future, they all felt like they were teetering on an edge. I carried so much fear, sadness, and anxiety that I couldn't always put into words. And so, I turned to something deeper, something familiar. I turned to art. 

What started as a quiet release became something sacred. Every brushstroke, every line on the page, felt like exhaling emotions I didn't know I was holding in. It became my therapy, my sanctuary. A space where I could be raw and unfiltered without fear of judgement. 

But more than that, it connected me to my family. I began to sense the presence of the generations before me, those who may have also turned to creativity in their own silent battles. With each piece, I felt their strength guiding my hand, their energy living on through mine. Art became a bridge across time, grief, love.

Now, I create not just to heal, but to honor. To speak what can't be said. To release what shouldn't be held. And to remember that I am never truly alone, not in fear, not in art, not in spirit. 

-Priscilla "P.lo"