Kyla Bresch

This Painting, Soujourn, comes from the root meaning of the word sojourn, which means a temporary stay. Embedded in this painting is the word, dream, because sometimes things that are temporary feel-dream like but also because at any given moment, one can dream a new path or reshape their reality through perspective. My oldest daughter helped create the starry sky from which the dream catcher womb hangs. This dream catching womb envelopes a beginning life and for now, can protect it and filter energy. At the same time, there is a gap in this womb-like structure because there must be a journey in the process- we must wander some. There are pink waves lolling in, and human-like hearts floating above- each express a pulsing and rhythmic energy- a patterning. There are playful stars and shapes scattered throughout, giving the painting a child-like quality. I think the tone of this painting is celebratory and full of promise.

This painting, Re-cover, is the painting that I still look at, thinking I didn’t finish something. It holds the promise of another stroke, something to disrupt the golden center that draws the eye. Initially, I decided to do this painting as a reclamation of some profound ground I had lost in my life. Pens Chodren writes, When Things Fall Apart, and after processing the falling, I wanted to find the light or the way forward in a burst of colour and images. Yet, when I started this painting, I painted a few layers in quick succession and ended up with this beautiful heart bleeding colour. I saw it clearly and felt it too. But I had three small girls looking at me, the oldest sitting with me in the dark of night dripping paint. What do you do with that? Yes, it was where I was, and it brought a soft smile to my lips- a nod to an inner knowing. And I could have left it. Looking back, my mom said that temporary image was her favourite. But I needed to keep stretching the image, keep angling it further to see forward- I had to find some way forward. So I painted late at night, exploring these soft, light colours. Poppies showed up- magnificent and toxic— they could hold some tension. And then I started seeing these embryos growing—black and lit from within… and I started imagining how we evolve and how our choices are in part—in our coding, but also in how we are raised up, held up, and loved—this shapes our path too. I added these playful DNA symbols with oil pastels—but it was more about how this idea of how we develop is at constant play between these expressions—what we design is shaped by what is given to us. We draw from its bounty and its absence. The golden center is like a paste or healing balm for the understory. And the feathers—to me—symbolize the lightness and airiness that acceptance and realization brings.

Parallel Universe was inspired by a 2017 film called the Discovery. One overarching premise in the film is that our consciousness exists in parallel planes, and that when we die in one plane, our consciousness finds itself in another plane. I wanted to paint this concept of a side-by -side existence divided by some invisible membrane or realm. It seemed fitting to imagine beyond an earthy plane. What if conscious energy from the universe could also be absorbed into an alternate universe (s)? (Not an original thought- I know- but one I wanted to try painting). At the top of the painting, in one plane of existence, there is a black hand/claw reaching down. It’s sharp-edged with some bursts of red and shades of blue- in fact. For me, it was an alien claw wreaking havoc and causing destruction. There is also a giant whisk-like structure mixing up a natural order of living. In film, The Discovery, people begin to take their own lives in order to have their consciousness absorbed into an alternative plane—seeking a life with less suffering. The film opens this controversial concept, and it creates a powerful implicit narrative in the story. This painting, Parallel Universe seeks to visualize this film’s concept by juxtaposing dark against a lighter, brighter variation. The soft hues of pinks and purples suggest a lighter, more promising existence. I didn’t intend to reconcile this film's complex meaning, but rather to wonder further and sometimes, even still, get lost in thought.

Process was the goal with this painting. I wanted to explore a range of emotions and also play with texture and form, but as I was painting with no direction in mind, I started to imagine how much easier things would be if I could teleport into another place—the same life, just slightly adjusted to be a life with less turbulence. And then I thought, why not use the boldest Colors possible to communicate this intense need to express the depth of frustration, of anger, and rage, even, that needed an outlet. Slashing the canvas, destroying canaries..bleeding gold. at the same time, I started with this deep mechanical center, thinking about the intricacy of the ways our lives unfold, but also, for me, thinking that there is design to living well. And if I could build a time machine to go back to the choices I’ve made I could do better. But in the end, the narrative is flawed. So as I painted, dreaming of escapism fell away, and I saw her sitting there— beautifully regal but not without raw power—the resolute kind that doesn’t give away to fear or regret. Firmly rooted in the now, caught under some kind of acid rain storm— not moving, not even seeking shelter- just looking ahead, determined but focused. There’s some dark energy brewing above her because it seems like demons are still caught up here too, so her environment is volatile. There’s this mesh weapon projecting from chest, slashes around it as it tears out of her skin. It symbolizes her fight, her heartache, and her force—both emotional and physical. And she rocks this floral dress with hints of black because Fury, like wildflowers, is vivacious and brilliant in form. She isn’t human—visible by her skeletal claw hand and her cat-like eye. She is Fury— invoked but steeled by the knowledge that the chaos of anger can be felt and transformed into a vision that sets an alternative course. But first, we must sit in the aftermath in order to engrain it into our reality.

Moving through Time was the first piece where I had a preconceived idea of what I wanted to paint. Before I started, I kept seeing this mane of rainbow coloured hair waving and flowing. I had to paint that hair! Initially, I wanted to paint two people kissing, but as the images evolved, they became less human-like and more animal in form. It felt necessary to evolve them into something beyond human, something otherworldly with the hope they could offer some insight into another kind of love. Something of wonder and marvel. Yet, as I painted, the one figure became more and more distorted and the other became clearer and more refined. He was beautiful and brilliant in colour, a warrior actually, but every stroke I did kept erasing him. I couldn’t get this kiss right- and in a moment of frustration, I erased him completely. Then began to evolve this expression of sorrow and rage in the remaining figure. Her watchful eye is adorned with glitter, a pointed slit, and a feather-like image… she is flushed with the heat of her feelings, and she is releasing this vortex of emotion- probably some rage, but more like this guttural grief and anguish that literally takes form. There are veins and branches in the texture that rise up from this vocal eruption, and spill forward into future time. This knotted emotional projectile also veins out into future time. Perhaps her anger was at me for erasing her paramour or perhaps, with her slitted, reflective eye, she looked into my soul. Either way, in Moving through Time, this powerful creature, who is also a kind of warrior, makes clear that deep wounding won’t be silenced, that expressing our deepest hurt can create impressions that carry forward, and that we must keep moving 💜