The Scraped Sunflower was born not on a pristine canvas, but on one that had already lived a life.

This artwork is created on a scraped canvas—a surface that once carried another idea, another attempt, another story. Instead of discarding it, I chose to peel it back, scratch it, and let its imperfections remain visible. The scraped texture became part of the conversation, not something to be hidden. For me, this act itself is deeply personal: creation does not always begin from perfection; often, it begins from what is left behind.

The sunflower emerges boldly against a dark, almost night-like background. I intentionally painted only a part of the flower, allowing it to feel as though it is entering the frame rather than fully revealing itself. This partial presence speaks to resilience—how even when circumstances are incomplete or rough, growth still insists on happening.

The yellow petals are layered with raw, expressive strokes, allowing the under-texture of the scraped canvas to subtly show through. These uneven surfaces catch the light differently, giving the sunflower a living, breathing quality. The dark center grounds the composition, symbolizing strength and rootedness, while the surrounding petals reach outward, searching for light.

Using a scraped canvas is my way of honoring reuse, memory, and sustainability—both emotional and material. Just as life reshapes us through marks, losses, and revisions, this canvas carries its own history. The sunflower does not erase that past; it grows from it.

The Scraped Sunflower is a quiet reminder that beauty does not require a flawless beginning. Sometimes, the most honest art comes from surfaces that have already been tested—where hope rises, bright and unapologetic, from what was once considered discarded.