There’s a version of us we show to the world — and then there’s what’s underneath.
Fractured is about that underneath.

This piece wasn’t born clean. It came from tension — the kind that builds when you’re trying to hold it all together. When life pulls you in too many directions, and you start to splinter in places no one sees. You smile, you nod, you keep showing up… but inside, it’s chaos. Like someone dropped a mirror in slow motion and now you’re living inside the shards.

Truth is, most of us are walking around fractured.

Not broken, not useless — just cracked in a way that makes the light come through different. You lose people, you lose yourself, you get it back, and then lose it again. You feel too much, or nothing at all. Days blur. Time slips. You forget who you were before the world taught you how to survive.

But here’s what I’ve learned through it all:
Being fractured doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It means you’re human.

This painting is jagged and loud and uncertain — because healing is never quiet.
It’s a riot of feeling.
It’s fighting the urge to give up and doing it anyway.
It’s choosing to create something from the ruins.

And the silver lining?
Every fracture is an opening.
A way for truth to leak in.
A way for you to rebuild without pretending it didn’t happen.

If you’re feeling fractured, good. That means you’re real. That means you’re still alive in a world trying to numb you. And somewhere deep inside all that chaos, there’s still color, still fire, still you.

You’re not broken.
You’re becoming.

N Mokashi
MokashiArt.com