skin

My grandmother's hands traced ancient patterns across my forehead, reciting Thiruppavai verses in Tamil that seemed to paint themselves into my skin. Each word carried generations of women who understood that beauty wasn't surface-deep but rooted in devotion and cultural pride. When I began painting portraits celebrating this heritage, something shifted. The community embraced the work, their validation affirming what I'd always known: that honoring our roots transforms us all. My skin became canvas, my art became prayer. Through brush strokes and sacred syllables, we remembered who we were together.