I have always been fascinated by the way a body changes when it feels safe. There is a specific loosening of the shoulders, a surrender in the neck, a way the limbs settle into the earth that only happens in the presence of a chosen person. "You Give Me Shelter" began as an exploration of that physical release—the moment the armor falls away and we allow ourselves to be held.
When I pick up my pencil, I am looking for the tension between the bold, black line and the soft, white space of the paper. In this piece, the lines had to be deliberate but tender. I wanted the anatomy to feel real, not idealized, because safety isn't found in a polished surface; it’s found in the creases, the weight, and the heat of a real human form. The selective use of color serves as a pulse, a reminder of the life vibrating beneath the skin.
There is an inherent eroticism in trust. To me, the most provocative thing we can do is show our need for another. In drawing these figures, I wasn't just interested in the aesthetic of the female form, but in the psychological landscape of intimacy. It is about the person who becomes your four walls, the one whose scent and shape provide a refuge from the chaos of existence.
“I wanted to capture the heavy, honest stillness of being truly seen and protected by another.”— Kaethe Butcher, Studio Notes,
I remember the silence in my studio while working on this. I felt I was mapping out a sanctuary. Every stroke of the pencil was a search for that point of contact where one person ends and another begins. It is a delicate balance, trying to render the feeling of being anchored without being trapped.
Looking at it now, I see it as a question I am asking myself and the viewer: who is the person that lets you breathe? We spend so much of our lives performing, standing tall and rigid. This piece is about the beauty of finally collapsing into the arms of someone who knows exactly how to hold the pieces together. It is a celebration of the quiet, private bravery it takes to be vulnerable.
