Awakening

"Awakening"

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”— Anaïs Nin

This is about the moment right after you drop the mask you’ve been wearing, when everything around you still looks the same—but you realize you don’t quite belong anymore. It’s like watching someone wake up from a shared dream while everyone else is still asleep inside it. She’s still there, still surrounded by them, but she’s not one of them anymore. She’s broken the pattern. And now she’s standing in that strange, quiet space—right before everything changes—where seeing clearly comes with both solitude and strength.

Artist Statement:

There’s a moment—just after you drop the mask you’ve been wearing—when the world looks the same, but you no longer belong to it. This piece holds that pause: like watching someone wake up from a shared dream while everyone else remains inside it. She’s still among them, but no longer of them. She’s broken the pattern. And now, in the stillness before everything changes, she stands in the quiet, complicated space of sight—where solitude and courage often meet.

Imaginary Friend

Imaginary Friend

“And then I found myself — not lost, just hiding in plain sight.” — Atticus Poetry

This piece was created in response to the theme of Childhood. A few years back, I explored this theme with my piece In the Corner. 

This time, I was drawn to the concept of an imaginary friend — a familiar childhood idea, often seen as playful or whimsical. But for me, it offered something deeper. I loved the idea of using the tea party setting to anchor this piece in childhood — with its nostalgia, innocence, and ritual — while also opening the door to themes of self-exploration, internal dialogue, and loneliness. That’s where the ghostly, "imaginary" figure comes in.

As I pieced the concept together, I realized it wasn’t just about the idea of imaginary friends in general. It was personal. It was about growing up as an only child. In many ways, this piece speaks to the only child experience — but also to the emotional experience of being "only" in any context. The imaginary friend in this image isn’t a character I invented for fun. She’s a proxy — for the sister never born, the friend who never called, and the idea that I became my own best friend out of necessity.

Even now, as an adult, she’s still here. Maybe fainter, maybe quieter — but still present. She is the one who once promised not to leave. And now I pour her tea. Then I acknowledge: You were me all along.

Versions of Me

VERSIONS OF ME

One me

Two me
Red me
Blue me.

Old me
Twin me
Thin me
Back me.

This one is an avatar.
That one hides a fading scar.
Say! What a lot of mes there are.

Some are quiet, some are loud,
Some are lost inside a crowd.

Some are whole and some are barred,
All of them have come this far.

My poem based on the opening pages of the book One Fish, Two Fish by Dr. Seuss.

This piece is about all the different versions of me—the parts that show up loud and clear, the ones that hide away, and the ones stuck somewhere in between. It’s about how one person isn’t just one thing but a whole collection of selves, each with its own story, its own scars, its own ways of coping.

There’s something about how memory and identity loop around and overlap, and I wanted to capture that—how the past, present, and future selves all exist together, moving forward, no matter what. This work is a kind of quiet celebration of endurance, of coming this far.

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How this came about: I’m part of a group doing 52 weeks of self-portraits, and this week’s theme was “Favorite Book.” Usually, I loosely base my piece on the prompt or find a way to tie it into something I was already planning to create. But this week felt different. I had some older shots that technically could’ve worked, but I just wasn’t connecting with them. So instead, I decided to take the theme literally and recreate one of my favorite books.

BTS: The dress is actually blue, and the hair color on the green twins matches my real hair. Even though they’re labeled as "twins," the two green figures are not the same image. I based the orientation of each “me” on the original book cover — positioning them to match the direction of the fish. On the cover, the green fish have their eyes closed, so I chose to cover their faces with hair to echo that. The blue fish is standing in a different pose than the others, so I had that version of me turned away to show the contrast.

There are five unique versions of me in this piece, each created from individual self-portraits. I changed details like size, posture, hair color, and expression to reflect different aspects of myself — all the different "mes" I carry.

Artist Statement:

This piece explores the many versions of me—some loud, some hidden, some in-between. It’s about identity as layered and shifting, with each self holding its own story. Past and present overlap, and through it all, this work quietly honors the act of making it this far

Beneath the Surface

Beneath the Surface

"Man has only to sink beneath the surface and he is free.”— Jacques Yves Cousteau

This piece captures the feeling of being submerged inside your own thoughts, memories, or internal prison. A pause between remembering how to surface and choosing to stay hidden. A moment of waiting, resting, or simply disappearing inward.

This piece reflects on the self-constructed nature of emotional confinement. This internal space wasn’t imposed by others, but built over time from accumulated fears, doubts, and relentless overthinking. Once a form of protection, it has since become a quiet prison, familiar, but limiting.

BTS:

Yes this is very similar to a few of my other works. Sometimes its fun to work with elements from other works and see what new artwork I can come up with. I am finding that in 2025 I am realizing my voice, what I want my art to represent, so some things can be reworked to explore these new visions. And that is how this piece was born.

Check out: Deep Wandering, Net of Wonder, and Caged

Unburden

 Unburden

“To unburden yourself is not to lose yourself, but to uncover who you were before the weight.”
— Yung Pueblo

While this self portrait is very similar to the one, Release, I did a few weeks ago , I feel like that artwork was more lighthearted and about the general idea of release or letting go, while this one is more about the darker, heavier things we carry that burden us.

Art Statement:

Unburden confronts the heavier truths—those quiet, internal weights we carry for too long. It speaks to the shedding of shame, fear, expectations, and versions of the self that once served a purpose but now only tether. This work is not about letting go in a gentle sense, but about the difficult, necessary act of breaking away from what no longer belongs. It’s a return to what lies beneath the burden.

Backstory:

So I originally had a way different idea for this week, a piece I will finish for sure as there is nothing wrong with it, but honestly wasn't feeling that that piece was suppose to be this week, and kept putting off the editing for it. But then this idea came into my head this morning and I felt drawn to create it immediately. Even though it was similar to two others pieces I've created before, Im really working on learning to listen to ME and create what I feel needs to be created when it calls to be created.

Also check out Fly which is similar.

Unwanted Spotlight

Unwanted Spotlight

“The world loves to shine a spotlight, but never asks if you’re ready to be seen.”— Unknown

This week I worked on this piece in many different iterations. This was the third major version I did. Which sometimes happens with art. You think you know what it should look like, but it doesn't really work once you get the pieces altogether. Lots of trial and error with body posture and window size, how much light, etc.

So if you are ever working on a piece and it isn't working, keep trying different things! and who knows I may revisit this piece at later time and make a few more tweaks.

Ok about this: Basically, I wanted to create a piece that showed light isn't always welcome. That sometimes you don't want the spotlight or to be seen. I wanted the light to reflect that feeling of being overwhelming and uninvited, something she’s trying to disappear from, not embrace.

Statement about Unwanted Spotlight:

There are moments when light arrives uninvited, demanding presence and strength. Sometimes it shows up when you’re not ready, when it feels more like pressure than peace. This work is about that tension: the urge to stay hidden, to rest in the dark, to not have to explain or perform anything. It’s about the weight of being looked at when all you want is to disappear for a while. I wanted the light to reflect that feeling of being overwhelming and uninvited. More like an unwanted spotlight—something she’s trying to disappear from, not embrace.

©2025 Angela Marvel Fine Art

Award winning photographer, Angela Marvel, creates conceptual self-portraiture, exploring themes of isolation, identity, and emotional resilience, blending surreal storytelling with symbolic elements.
Please visit angelamarvel.com for more info. 

Heartstrings

 Heartstrings

"The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of."— Blaise Pascal

Heartstrings reflects on the unseen emotions we carry, inviting the viewer to consider what holds us, what lingers, and what we choose to let remain. It’s about the ache of holding space for love, for memories, and for the versions of ourselves that we once imagined.

©2025 Angela Marvel Fine Art
Award winning photographer, Angela Marvel, creates conceptual self-portraiture, exploring themes of isolation, identity, and emotional resilience, blending surreal storytelling with symbolic elements.
Please visit angelamarvel.com for more info.