Welcome to my world of unfiltered shame, vulnerability, and raw emotion. Season 12 invites you into the intimate spaces where escapism, self-sabotage, and uncomfortable truths quietly unfold — the kitchen, the bathroom, the bed — the places where the private becomes public and the personal becomes universal. This is not a narrative of redemption or triumph; it is a visceral descent into the quiet moments where a person slowly unravels. The works in this season confront taboos without hesitation, diving into addiction, dependency, and the small, repetitive rituals of self-destruction that shape a life far more than the dramatic moments ever do. These paintings are unapologetically stark, each one a confrontation with cycles that suffocate and sustain in equal measure. The tension in them is deliberate — a push-and-pull between repulsion and invitation — whispering stay away while demanding that you look closer.

The work strips everything down to a brutal honesty meant to unsettle, not comfort — challenging the viewer to sit with their own discomfort rather than search for meaning or resolution. While themes like transformation, movement, and energy often imply progress, Season 12 rejects that expectation. It reminds us that progress begins in the wreckage, in the moment where you finally stop running long enough to see the mess around you. These works do not resolve; they disrupt. They shock gently, then violently, then quietly — leaving something behind long after you’ve turned away.

How far are you willing to fall before you rise?