Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Two fighters, mid-exchange. No faces, no names — just the red corner and the blue, a shamrock on the vest, and the moment a punch lands.
Watercolour is an unforgiving medium for a subject like this. There's no reworking a wash, no painting over a mistake. Every mark is committed to the second it's made. That felt like the right way to paint women who fight: the decision and the consequence arriving together, no way back.
This piece isn't a portrait of anyone. It's about the generation of women who had to argue their way into the ring before they were allowed to box in it, and the girls now walking into clubs on a Tuesday night who will never know it was ever in question.
Watercolour on paper.
Two fighters, mid-exchange. No faces, no names — just the red corner and the blue, a shamrock on the vest, and the moment a punch lands.
Watercolour is an unforgiving medium for a subject like this. There's no reworking a wash, no painting over a mistake. Every mark is committed to the second it's made. That felt like the right way to paint women who fight: the decision and the consequence arriving together, no way back.
This piece isn't a portrait of anyone. It's about the generation of women who had to argue their way into the ring before they were allowed to box in it, and the girls now walking into clubs on a Tuesday night who will never know it was ever in question.
Watercolour on paper.