Rachel Bradley

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Happy Valentine's Day to my rock, my muse, my world. This year it'll be 10 years since we met, and somehow I keep fallin...
02/14/2026

Happy Valentine's Day to my rock, my muse, my world. This year it'll be 10 years since we met, and somehow I keep falling for you harder. How lucky I am to get to do this whole life thing by your side ❤️.

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New friend in progress 🐦---
02/07/2026

New friend in progress 🐦

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"Transience" - 9"x12" mixed media on Bristol Paper. Some whimsical pastel guppies, because I wanted to create something ...
02/05/2026

"Transience" - 9"x12" mixed media on Bristol Paper.

Some whimsical pastel guppies, because I wanted to create something that soothed and satisfied me.

I've been on quite the journey the past few years. It started as a journey to figure out why I couldn't find my artistic North Star, the great "one thing" that the artists I admire seem to have figured out for themselves. Along the way, I uncovered a pattern of wounds that stretched through every damn area of my life.

I spent a distressing amount of that journey in pain and fear that healing those wounds would take art away from me. Maybe I'd realise art was a toxic byproduct of my yearning for belonging and meaning. Maybe healing my need for validation would sap me of any motivation to create at all. So many maybes. So much doubt.

But my growing baby girl gave me a sense of urgency and a necessity outside of myself. I didn't want to demonstrate to her that her worth is in her output, or that defeats are insurmountable. I kept trying and failing and trying again to determine what role art has in my life when I stop using it as a bandaid for my deeper struggles. And I think I'm finally arriving at a place of peace and honesty in my creativity that I've previously been terrified to allow.

At last, these enigmatic and disjointed thoughts are coming together to say something cohesive. The vague is becoming more specific, and the rare flickers of insight are becoming an integrated constant. And I finally feel a sense of hope and peace that, maybe, my daughter might learn how to trust her heart and her vision in a way that once was a mere fantasy to me. ❤️
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A little peak at my guppies! Will share the full piece soon.
01/28/2026

A little peak at my guppies! Will share the full piece soon.

New year is hitting differently for me this year.2025 has been a year beyond words. The little life growing inside me ha...
12/31/2025

New year is hitting differently for me this year.

2025 has been a year beyond words. The little life growing inside me has changed me irrevocably before she's even drawn her first breath, and March '26 will bring the greatest gift of my life. And after years of healing work, I've finally found ways to measure the worth of my life beyond my work.

But the ghosts of those old patterns still haunt me. They mostly lurk out of sight, and I forget they are there. But every now and then, something (NYE and the pressure to make resolutions, for example) brings them back into the light, and they torment me.

They tell me that I'm not a real artist. They say that, if I was, I'd have a clear consistent body of work. That I'd have a dependable process. An iconic style. A clear message to convey. They point to my scattered trail of experiments, their lack of uniting vision, and say they bring nothing meaningful into the world. And, when they *really* gain power over me, they ask me what sort of damage it might do to a young girl to be raised by a mother who just can't seem to find her mission in life, or the peace in her passion.

It's hard for me to share this. I've been told many times that my tendency towards uncertainty and experimentation (and to talk with the tone of someone still figuring it all out) makes it difficult to take me and my work seriously. "Be yourself--but not like that!"

But I have the soul of a wanderer. I question more than I answer. I explore more than I produce. I flow like water between thoughts and interests and opinions, never able to ground myself for long before being pulled into the next thing. I don't force myself on people or the world, but remain open to it, waiting to be invited. And in this world that celebrates the sturdy, singularly-focused, disciplined, driven, masculine approach to greatness and genius, I've come to feel ashamed of my nature.

I still don't know where my art will take me. I still pray it leads me somewhere clear and consistent, that I can model for my baby girl what it means to persist and triumph in one's struggles. But until then, I hope to model honesty and vulnerability, and to keep showing up. ❤️

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Charlottesville, VA

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