After the Scream

The Scream

A woman shields her face with her hands — eyes shut tight, palms pressed hard — and still the scream escapes, forcing its way past the very hands trying to hold it in. It's a cry that won't be silenced, whether it comes out loud or stays a silent plea.

There are moments when sadness or despair are the only honest response. They don't fix what caused them, and often the cause is something vast and beyond our control — or so we believe. When nothing else is left, what remains is the scream.

This is my own expressionist monotype: a figure consumed by emotion, the human face carrying feeling rather than likeness. In that, I stand alongside Munch — his cry could belong to any of us. I let her scream beside his.

An original monotype, signed.

Jolanta