My sister’s name is Mallory. Biologically speaking, she’s four years younger than me, but we might as well have been twins. She’s the other half of my heart; we understand each other without having to speak. Maybe that happens to everyone who shares a room for all of childhood. I don’t actually know how it happened, but we share a brain.
She has seen my art journals from the very beginning (it was an ugly beginning.) Once, I finished a painting and showed it to her. She blinked and said, “They all look the same. You like Prussian Blue too much.” Prussian Blue is my jam. It’s shockingly deep and rich. It’s the little watercolor tube that ends up empty first. I squeeze it to death like an empty tube of toothpaste, trying to eek out one more glob of gunk. I looked at the painting she had criticized, and vowed to break up with Prussian Blue.
It didn’t happen. Prussian Blue is the boyfriend I keep running back to, no matter how many times we break up. Thanks to Mal, I vowed to go easy on the Prussian Blue when I started this project. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. I am proud to say there is not one drop of Prussian Blue (or any blue!) on this page.
This painting is about trafficking survivors who attempt to leave prostitution. One challenge of creating a new life is being faced with your old identity. Many girls hear things like, “You’re just a slut.” “You’ll never succeed.” “Don’t hang out with that girl; she’s trashy.” “What a ho.” It is all too tragic; I wish they knew they are offered a fresh start:
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come!” 2 Corinthians 5:17