Bruised Heart Chronicals

Growing up in a very abusive home, I had to figure out how to care and nurture my heart. Though my heart is still pumping, it's very much bruised. When I was making this piece I felt the ache and the emotions poured out. I felt like I was working my way out of the locked room my parents had me in most of my childhood. I remember dreaming of going outside and hanging out with my friend but instead I had to look out the window and watch the kids play. I dreamed in color even though I lived in fear.