Not all crows are born black. A rare genetic mutation leaves some without melanin—the pigment responsible for their signature feathers. These birds are albino. In a species where uniformity is essential for survival, being born stark white comes with a steep price. The rest of the flock doesn't throw a welcome party; they stare, peck, and keep their distance, wary of anything that refuses to blend in.
Lately, that reality has hit close to home. Turning sixty-one will naturally make you take stock of your life. As is natural and good, my family that I dedicated so much of life to is grown and independent. I also just sold my art studio. That studio was my heart and soul, yet it had grown so demanding that running it no longer left room to live the life I actually wanted to build.
From the time we can walk, we’re handed a script: blend in, smooth your edges, stay in line, and carry the weight everyone else is carrying. I’ve simply never fit comfortably inside the box society labels as "right."
Walking away from that blueprint to claim your own next chapter can feel a lot like being that white crow on an ordinary branch. People don’t always understand when you step out of a role you spent decades perfecting. They wonder why you won’t just stay in the safe, familiar lane with the rest of the flock.
It takes a lot of living to realize that constantly trying to blend in is exhausting, and it doesn't protect you anyway. This painting is about that quiet turning point: perching on your own branch, entirely at ease with standing out, and finally letting yourself be seen just as you are.
Not all crows are born black. A rare genetic mutation leaves some without melanin—the pigment responsible for their signature feathers. These birds are albino. In a species where uniformity is essential for survival, being born stark white comes with a steep price. The rest of the flock doesn't throw a welcome party; they stare, peck, and keep their distance, wary of anything that refuses to blend in.
Lately, that reality has hit close to home. Turning sixty-one will naturally make you take stock of your life. As is natural and good, my family that I dedicated so much of life to is grown and independent. I also just sold my art studio. That studio was my heart and soul, yet it had grown so demanding that running it no longer left room to live the life I actually wanted to build.
From the time we can walk, we’re handed a script: blend in, smooth your edges, stay in line, and carry the weight everyone else is carrying. I’ve simply never fit comfortably inside the box society labels as "right."
Walking away from that blueprint to claim your own next chapter can feel a lot like being that white crow on an ordinary branch. People don’t always understand when you step out of a role you spent decades perfecting. They wonder why you won’t just stay in the safe, familiar lane with the rest of the flock.
It takes a lot of living to realize that constantly trying to blend in is exhausting, and it doesn't protect you anyway. This painting is about that quiet turning point: perching on your own branch, entirely at ease with standing out, and finally letting yourself be seen just as you are.
Available through Red Sky Gallery