We Are Tears and Flowers

This piece from' What if Hope Was a Colour' carries both ache and tenderness. This work asks what hope might look like if it bloomed outside of words. Every petal is layered in brightness, but between them, there are still shadows because hope isn’t without ache. We are both tears and flowers, fragile yet unyielding, carrying the weight of longing and the light of becoming. This painting is my way of holding both at once, in colour.

There are moments when life feels like it holds us in its quiet hands. Fragile, trembling, yet full of hidden strength.

We are born of both softness and storms, and maybe that is what makes us human:we are tears and we are flowers.

Life moves in seasons.

Sometimes we are in the winter of our emotions.Heavy, silent, and consumed by tears.

These tears carry the weight of grief, disappointments, and unspoken longings.They are proof that we have felt deeply, that we have dared to hope, to love, to lose.They wash us clean in ways words cannot, like relentless rain carving the earth, preparing it for growth.

When was the last time your tears became a release instead of a burden?Do you let yourself feel them, or do you hide them away?

Other times, we are in the spring of our being.Like flowers, we bloom.

Something beautiful rises from the soil that has known darkness and light.Petals open in vulnerability yet stand tall in resilience, drinking in the sunlight after storms.

Growth is not perfection; it is the courage to rise and reveal ourselves, even when the world can be harsh.

What does blooming look like for you right now?What part of you longs to rise, even if it feels fragile?

To be alive is to embody both.To cry is nourishment. To bloom is bravery.

We are not one or the other.We are the ache of tears and the quiet triumph of flowers.We are sorrow and joy, endings and beginnings, loss and renewal.

And in the end, who we really are is neither the tears nor the flowers alone.

We are the tremble before the storm, the pulse that refuses to break.We are the hands that have held sorrow and still reach for sunlight.We are the fragments that bleed, the hearts that hope, the courage that rises from the ruins of ourselves.

Who are you, when you strip away the masks you wear?

Are you willing to be both fragile and fierce at once?

We are fragile and fierce, broken and whole, aching yet alive.We are the storm, and we are the bloom.

And for a moment, if we are honest, we see it all: we are endless contradictions, heartbreak and hope, fragile yet unstoppable — fully, painfully, beautifully human.

Which part of yourself is blooming right now?