And Still She Wore the Crown is a meditation on motherhood, endurance, and the complicated strength required to hold a family together.

At the center, a crowned woman gathers two figures against her body, her oversized hands becoming both shelter and support.  Her brilliant yellow face is nearly featureless except for a closed eye and a single falling tear—a quiet acknowledgment of the exhaustion, sacrifice, and emotion that can exist alongside strength.

Above her, the crown is intentionally unruly: layered, colorful, imperfect, and expansive. It is not a crown of ease or perfection, but one earned through responsibility, resilience, and the countless roles she carries. The surrounding marks and saturated color create a sense of movement and pressure, while her blue form becomes the protective space holding everything together.

The work honors the woman who nurtures while navigating her own emotions; who protects while carrying her own weight; who may bend, grieve, question, and tire without surrendering her power.

Her tear is visible. Her burden is real. Her crown is imperfect.