The Heart Map

The Heart Map began with an attempt to give shape to something that cannot be seen. My four-year-old son was asking questions about love. He was searching for reassurance that a mother's love for her child remains, no matter what. In response, I drew a heart. A map of relationships and attachments.

I divided it into sections and showed him where everyone and everything I truly love belonged. His part was the largest. I explained that no one could make it smaller and no one could take it away.

The image stayed with me long after the conversation had ended. I found myself thinking about the heart as a space rather than a symbol. How much can it contain? Does love occupy the heart's territory, or does it continually reshape its boundaries? Do we need to make space before something new can enter, or is the heart capable of expanding beyond what we imagine?

These questions accompanied me while painting. I also remembered how much I love painting with my hands rather than brushes. This habit began after watching my son paint. Children move through the creative process differently. They touch the material directly. They do not hesitate or fear mistakes. Their attention belongs entirely to the present moment.

Over time, I realised that what fascinated me was not simply the gesture itself, but the freedom behind it. Children trust what they feel before they can explain it. They move towards curiosity rather than certainty. They allow the process to lead the way.

As a jewellery maker, I recognise something familiar in this way of working. Throughout my practice, my hands have been more than tools. They are a way of thinking, perceiving, and navigating. Through touch, I orient myself within a process and gradually find a path towards the finished work.

When I look at the painting now, I see an attempt to understand how love takes up space. How we shape love with our own hands. How relationships reshape us. How we continue carrying old attachments while making room for new ones. And how the heart, despite our efforts to measure or divide it, remains larger and more mysterious than we expect.

Acrylic and oil on canvas
150 × 120 cm
2026
Original artwork, signed on the back
Unframed
Worldwide shipping available upon request