Some of you know pieces of my journey through my previous writings, but for the first time, I'm opening my entire heart — and my family albums— to share how deep wounds from my childhood found healing through the messiest moments of being an exhausted, deflated, hyper-anxious mom.
This isn’t just a story about art. It’s about the ways childhood dreams can be silenced by well-meaning “experts,” how that silence can echo through decades, and how healing sometimes arrives in the most unexpected packages — like spilled tempera paint and a toddler’s infectious curiosity.
It's one thing to read about transformation. It's another entirely to see it unfold —to watch the journey from wounded to healing, from silence to expression, from isolation to community.
This video is my heart laid bare, my story in living color.
For those who’ve been with me through my journey, this will add new dimensions to the stories you already know. For those just joining me, welcome to the most honest introduction I could possibly offer.
What you’ll see isn’t polished or perfect. It’s real. It’s messy. It’s deeply human. Just like the art we make, just like the healing we pursue, just like the community we’re building together.
I’ll be here in the comments, heart open, ready to hold space for whatever this story stirs in you. Because while this video tells my story, I know that within it are echoes of your own — your own creative wounds, your own healing journey, your own path back to joy.
Looking forward to hard, heartfelt conversations with you.
Mansi.
🎨 The Journey So Far:
P.S. My studio (or "lab" as I fondly call it) is messy and full of color at all times — proof that sometimes our deepest healing comes through embracing exactly what we were once told we couldn't be.
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