Artist. Mirror-maker. Truth-teller.
I’m Paige Kennedy — I turn grief into mirror‑mosaic magic.
This is where broken becomes beautiful.
About Paige Kennedy
My Alchemy
The Gallery
My Alchemy
I didn’t go to art school. I went through hell.
I didn’t learn design - I learned how to alchemize trauma.
I turned silence into texture. I turned breakdowns into brushstrokes.
Every piece here is part of my own healing.
This is my personal gallery - art I made for myself, for my husband, for the people I love.
I never created to sell. I creat
I didn’t go to art school. I went through hell.
I didn’t learn design - I learned how to alchemize trauma.
I turned silence into texture. I turned breakdowns into brushstrokes.
Every piece here is part of my own healing.
This is my personal gallery - art I made for myself, for my husband, for the people I love.
I never created to sell. I created to survive.
I didn’t build a brand - I built a mirror.
This isn’t art for art’s sake.
This is soul reclamation. This is post-traumatic power.
This is what it looks like when you turn pain into beauty - and dare to share it.
MEET PAIGE
The Gallery
My Alchemy
I’m a mom, a maker, and a woman who’s been silenced more times than I can count.
Now? I say it anyway.
I spent years being erased - by systems, by men, by motherhood, by my own silence. But one broken mirror at a time, I started reflecting myself back to myself.
This space isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.
It’s where grief meets g
I’m a mom, a maker, and a woman who’s been silenced more times than I can count.
Now? I say it anyway.
I spent years being erased - by systems, by men, by motherhood, by my own silence. But one broken mirror at a time, I started reflecting myself back to myself.
This space isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.
It’s where grief meets glitter. Rage meets resin. And healing gets loud.
“Linda” is the voice in my head (and now my art) that reminds me who the hell I am - and says it with a wink.
The Gallery
The Gallery
The Gallery
These aren’t just objects - they’re artifacts of survival.
Each piece is made from discarded bits of life: fast fashion shame, broken mirrors, outdated ideas, and emotional rubble.
What rises from that? Beauty. Humor. Power.
Welcome to the altar.