In junior high, he felt like a half-finished painting—colors there, but none of them quite blended yet. He wanted to be athletic, artistic, brilliant, brave… but each dream seemed to slip through his fingers in a different way. Still, he tried - football one semester, theatre the next, robotics after that. Every attempt lit him up, even when if didn’t work out. Teachers watched him fall forward with a grin that never dimmed. He didn’t know it yet, but that persistence was shaping him more than any success could. And someday, he’d realize the beauty of his spirit wasn’t in being everything—but in attempting it all. I couldn’t be prouder of this young man. I hope he is still in the middle of everything.
4” x 5”. Oil on 100% cotton paper.
In junior high, he felt like a half-finished painting—colors there, but none of them quite blended yet. He wanted to be athletic, artistic, brilliant, brave… but each dream seemed to slip through his fingers in a different way. Still, he tried - football one semester, theatre the next, robotics after that. Every attempt lit him up, even when if didn’t work out. Teachers watched him fall forward with a grin that never dimmed. He didn’t know it yet, but that persistence was shaping him more than any success could. And someday, he’d realize the beauty of his spirit wasn’t in being everything—but in attempting it all. I couldn’t be prouder of this young man. I hope he is still in the middle of everything.
4” x 5”. Oil on 100% cotton paper.
