The Soul Behind the Art 

My work is deeply personal. Beneath the layers of colour and form are fragments of my own journey: surviving narcissistic abuse, reclaiming my voice, and transforming trauma into beauty. Each painting is a relic of survival — not just a memory, but a testament to the quiet strength it takes to rise. For years, relentless gaslighting erased my sense of identity and left me doubting my own instincts. Yet, against all odds, I began rediscovering my extrasensory perception — a God-given skill that helped me connect more deeply with Jesus and discern truth in the midst of lies. Now, I feel a profound calling to use this ability to help others. My art tells that story: hidden symbolism and deeper meanings woven into every piece, quiet proofs that beauty and truth endure.

I paint and design for those who have lived through the unspoken. Those who carry invisible scars and still dare to seek the light of truth. My art isn’t just for walls — it’s for the soul.

My name is Brittany Anna Wittmeier.
On every piece of art I create, you’ll find the initials BAW. It’s more than a signature — it’s my self-given name, a reclaiming of my voice and my story. BAW sounds like baa baa black sheep — a symbol that holds deep personal meaning. In my abusive family, I was always the scapegoat, the emotional target, the one who was the most different. The black sheep.

Deeply empathetic, intuitive, and sensitive in a home ruled by apathy and quiet control — nothing of what a real family should be. I was shamed for showing love if it didn’t meet the ever-changing conditions. Dismissed for asking “too much,” being “too much,” and feeling “far too much.” Constantly sidelined and silenced — while my life was on the line.

And it wasn’t just family.
I narrowly escaped human trafficking — more than once — when the odds were stacked against me. But even in those moments of danger and darkness, God didn’t just intervene — He spoke. The Holy Spirit — Shekinah, the ever-present Helper — whispered to me in the quiet, guiding me toward decisions that made no earthly sense. And there were times when I heard Jesus Himself, clear as day, speaking words of truth and strategy when I needed them most. His voice steadied me when everything around me felt like chaos.

The moves I made may have looked reckless to others — but they were acts of obedience, not impulse. And when I followed, trembling but trusting, the right people appeared at exactly the right time. Not a second too late.

It wasn’t luck. It was protection. It was Providence.
It was the loving precision of a God who is alive, who still speaks, and who sees and saves — Father, Son, and Spirit — equipping the willing to walk through fire and come out radiant as a work of art.

In the quiet corners of my room, art became my sanctuary. A place where I could finally breathe — and hear. When I draw or paint, it feels less like I’m inventing and more like I’m interpreting something already present, just waiting to be seen. Each line, each stroke, lands with the kind of intuitive precision a musician feels when playing by ear — attuned not just to form, but to feeling, to memory, to truth. Sometimes, what emerges on the canvas are answers I didn’t know I was seeking — revelations that surface through colour, rhythm, and light.

Painting was never just a passion; it was a lifeline. And often, it was like a portal.

Wearable Art: Hope You Can Put On 

Every brushstroke was survival. In a house that tried to silence me, I painted to remember who I was and to dream of freedom. It never came without a cost, but it was always worth fighting for.

When survival turned into story… 

and story turned into a movie-worthy escape. 

Read the 8-Part Interview Series in L’@rtikle on Mode Ô Verre 

Part 4

#31 DECEMBER 2023

Part 8

#36 MAY 2024

Part 4

#31 DECEMBER 2023

Part 8

#36 MAY 2024

And behind all the elegance, fashion, and

cinematic moments; there has always been the art.

Hand-drawn and hand-painted, my artwork has carried me through silence and sorrow, heartbreak and healing. But it’s also carried something else: a dream. A longing for beauty that could exist beyond the pain — beauty that doesn’t deny the darkness, but dares to break through it. Each piece begins in my hands, using traditional materials like charcoal, graphite, pastel chalk, watercolour, acrylic, oil pastels, and coloured pencil. These are not digital. Not generated. Just me, God, and the quiet honesty of creating something real. Take Halo, for example — drawn entirely by hand in charcoal and pastel chalk. I’ve had people tell me it made them cry, and I believe it’s because something sacred lives inside the strokes. It’s not just a horse. Its presence. It’s peace. It’s hope with eyes. Another example is Lost At Sea — an abstract painting I created during the chilling realization that my father’s death wasn’t what we thought. Painted in silence, this piece held space for truth to rise like a tide, slowly, achingly with tears flowing like the endless rain. It taught me that sometimes, art sees before the conscious mind does. And then there is I See You — my personal masterpiece. A large, hand-drawn charcoal portrait of a lone wolf, created over several years of emotional turmoil. I worked on her through seasons of chaos, often with soft background music playing while I quietly cried and processed everything I couldn’t yet say out loud. Her gaze became a steady comfort — tender and knowing — often reminding me of my beloved dog Joey, who had passed years earlier. In many ways, the wolf came to symbolize how God was looking at me the whole time: not with judgment, but with sympathy, watchfulness, and care. This wasn’t just a drawing — it was a moment of recognition. Of being seen when I most needed to be. It reminded me: even in silence, I was never unseen. These aren’t just images. They’re evidence. Proof that beauty can survive anything. That dreams can be drawn even in the dark. That freedom begins with seeing — and being seen. 

Whether you’re interested in purchasing an original piece, commissioning custom artwork,
ordering gallery-quality prints, or placing a boutique order of my wearable art; I’d love to hear from you. 

I collaborate with collectors, curators, stylists, boutiques, and kindred spirits who value slow, soulful beauty.
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