Some days, art flows like sunlight—easy, warm, and full of life. Other days, it’s like trying to paint with rainwater. You sit there, brush in hand, staring at the blank page or screen, and wonder where that spark went. I’ve been there more times than I can count. But what I’ve learned is this: creative block isn’t the end of your art. Sometimes, it’s the space God gives you to breathe, listen, and refill your cup.

I lost someone dear recently—a friend, a family member to many, my daughter’s cousin. His life was taken in a senseless act of violence during a robbery gone wrong. Just like that, a precious life cut short. His story should not have ended this way. There are no words that can wrap neatly around the ache that death leaves behind. When it happens in such a cruel way, it stings even more. Money. That’s what it came down to. Money—something so temporary—was valued over a huma

There’s a certain magic that comes with waking up each day knowing that your job is to create. To take what’s in your heart, around you, your imagination, and your prayers, and turn it into something that others can see, feel, and hold. Being a full-time artist is both a dream come true and a daily adventure—it’s freedom and challenge woven together with threads of color, faith, and possibility.