“Perennial”
Monica Henderson
Pittsburgh, PA
Social Media: @monicahende (Instagram)
Survivor
Twist on Cancer: A cancer experience is not bound by time. I’m 27 years old and have spent 90% of my life as a cancer survivor. Much of my time has been spent fielding “you’re too young for cancer,” and carrying the physical and mental costs of treatment. As a result, the emotions, thoughts, and memories tied to my cancer experience are fixed, repeating, and shifting all at once. I dance with duality. The give and take. Whys and what ifs. Yesterdays and tomorrows. I’m learning to live with what time cheated me of, and what it still has to offer. So, some lessons I’m unlearning and learning: Hiding my cancer identity earlier in life doesn’t mean honoring it now is less valid. Being years out from a diagnosis made during a time of limited cancer awareness doesn’t mean missing out on today’s support and research. Balancing the in-between of childhood, AYA, and adult cancer doesn’t mean compromising parts of my identity to fit in. Grieving doesn’t mean denying myself little moments of joy. Having a body that has never been “healthy” doesn’t mean giving up my own standards and desires for living. And so I end with this: time isn’t always healing, and it isn’t promised. Time fractured pieces of my cancer experience, but it also allows me to pick up those pieces, no matter where they continue to land.
Riya Jadeja
Austin, TX
Social Media: @_Riya.Jadeja
“Perennial”
Oil on canvas
20” x 24” x1”
$1,000
Artist Statement: This piece began with a series of conversations with Monica about her journey with cancer. Somewhere in her story, I kept picturing petals. Roses were part of both her and her mother’s experiences with treatment, but it was the petals I couldn’t shake: thin, soft, easily bruised, and still opening. I painted them in oil because it let me work slowly. I layered and blended the color until the edges softened and the petals seemed almost translucent. Some are open, some curl inward, and some are marked or worn. I wanted them to feel delicate without feeling weak. I named the piece Perennial because of the kind of strength I saw in Monica. A perennial returns season after season, through cold and hard conditions, without needing to be replanted. Her strength is like that: quiet, steady, and lasting. It isn’t loud or flawless, but it keeps coming back. What stayed with me most was how openly Monica shared her experience. She didn’t hide the hard parts, and her honesty made it easy for me to open up in return. I hadn’t expected that. I came to listen, and I left having said more than I planned. Her story is still unfolding. She is still finding her way, and I didn’t want to paint an ending that isn’t hers to have yet. Her openness inspires me, and this painting is my thank you for trusting me with her story.