"Bunnies"
Michelle Johnston
December 2025
Acrylic on canvas
12 x 16 inches
This piece explores the uneasy space between victimhood and violence. Rabbits have long symbolized innocence and vulnerability as creatures of prey. In this painting, however, that expectation is reversed. Two rabbits drift through the darkness with blood on their hands, having committed an act that was never meant to belong to them.
Despite sharing the same act, the two rabbits respond differently. One smokes a cigarette with quiet detachment, while the other stares toward the moon, burdened by remorse. Together they embody two ways of living with guilt: emotional distance and painful self-awareness.
Above them, the moon watches with a human face, silent, disappointed, and all-seeing. It serves as a witness rather than a judge, representing a force that observes every action but refuses to intervene. Its presence raises questions about free will, accountability, and whether being seen is its own form of judgment.
The painting asks whether violence becomes justifiable when committed by those who have long been powerless. If the prey finally fights back, at what point does justice become revenge? Rather than offering an answer, the work lingers in the discomfort of that question, inviting viewers to consider the cost of reclaiming power and whether innocence can ever survive an act of violence.
Bunnies
Unfortunately, there are no process photos to share for this piece, well, because mostly I never thought to take any. In any way, it feels fitting, because this painting was created so spontaneously that documenting each step never crossed my mind.
I created this work during my winter break in the middle of my second year of nursing school. At that point, I had not painted or really created anything since high school. With Christmas approaching and being a very broke student, I decided to return to something I had always loved.
I painted this piece within only a few hours on a canvas that had been sitting in the back of my closet. I painted from my bed, without a clear plan for where the piece was going. As I painted, the story seemed to reveal itself to me. It felt less like I was deciding what the painting would become and more like the painting was deciding for me.
The bunnies were really the only element I knew I wanted to include from the beginning. They have always held a personal meaning for me, so it was important that I had them as the focus of the piece.
One of the reasons I think this painting came together so quickly was that I was constantly surprising myself throughout the process. After years away from painting, I kept having moments of realizing, “Wait, I still know how to do this?!” Like many artists, I am often extremely critical of my own work, usually hearing a constant voice telling me that something is wrong before a piece is even finished. However, this painting was different. I genuinely enjoyed watching it come to life, and that excitement carried me through the entire process.
My Proccess
The story of the painting developed almost entirely through intuition. I started with two bunnies sitting in a rowboat, then added the landscape and the moon. When the moon’s expression came together, it looked so disappointed that I began asking myself: what did these bunnies do? I decided then to put blood on their hands, creating a dark but almost comedic reversal, the idea of two creatures typically viewed as innocent prey becoming the ones who have caused harm. From there, the personalities of the bunnies began to emerge. One appeared deeply regretful, while the other seemed almost unaffected by what had happened, and naturally, he looked like he needed a cigarette.
As the piece developed, the bunnies began to feel less like characters and oddly more like reflections of my brother and I. I started seeing pieces of our personalities within them, which was when I felt the painting had found its purpose.
Looking back at this painting now, there are certainly things I could change or improve, and I could probably spend hours analyzing every detail if given the opportunity. However, I think what makes this piece special to me is the spontaneity behind it. It captured a rare moment where I was not overthinking, criticizing, or trying to make something perfect. I was simply creating, and the result was something unexpected that I loved.