Art by J. R. Welch

Each of these faces saw something, experienced something. They carry it still, in silence, in shadow, in line and charcoal. This series is not about likeness, but memory, not about beauty, but truth. These are the witnesses of my trauma and the echoes of others. Together, they remember what we try to forget. 

I never studied technique, but the charcoal moved anyway, dragged by memory, instinct, and ache. The faces I draw emerge from a place before polish, shaped by survival more than skill. I draw like I remember: fragmented, distorted, honest. This is art from the hidden, the untrained, unfiltered, and unwilling to look away.