Still En Pointe is a portrait of defiance wrapped in grace — a Black ballerina suspended in a moment that is both soft and commanding. Her raised arms, her lifted chest, her steady gaze: each speaks of a woman who knows her worth even when the world tries to unwrite her.
A faint, faded hand lingers in the background — a ghostly imprint symbolizing the quiet, persistent erasure of Black talent from the center of the stage. Yet she refuses to fade. She steps forward anyway, extending her power where she was told she did not belong.
Her dark skin is rendered with intention and pride, honoring the richness of tone so often overlooked, so rarely celebrated. She becomes the light in her own frame.
Gold foil hides beneath the painted layers, its shimmer only appearing in slivers — a metaphor for the brilliance of Black artists whose shine is too often muted, scraped away, or ignored. But even through the pressure, the gold insists on revealing itself. It glimmers through every surface, reminding us that brilliance cannot be erased — only obscured for a moment.
Textured layers shape her body and the world around her, each ridge and rise echoing the complexities of our stories — the struggles, the flaws, the resilience earned piece by piece. The texture becomes our armor. Our testimony. Our proof that the weight we carry makes us stronger, steadier, and more unshakeable.
Her stance is a contradiction made beautiful: demanding yet delicate, fierce yet fluid. A declaration of all the spaces where Black women have had to carve their own center and dance anyway.
Still En Pointe is not just a pose
— it is a statement,
— a reclamation,
— a reminder that even when we are pushed aside,
We rise to the tip of what we were destined to become.