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Some paintings don’t just get noticed — they get recognized. Mona Leeza is one of those pieces. I once watched a couple return to it again and again, unable to walk away. Art chooses us as much as we choose it. This week, I wrote about that moment — when a painting finally finds its place.

How stepping back reignited me. I took a year off. Not because I wanted to. But because I had to. Actually it was a bit more than a year. A year of re-evaluating, of giving myself the grace to step away. Asking myself what was I giving away, and did I want to continue. You see, there is a lot of pressure (granted much self-imposed) to produce quality art, to sell constantly and nowadays to devote countless hours to social media. I felt I had lost "color," which is my mojo

I stand in front of a blank canvas, listening to the music that is always my muse — not for words, but for tone, or energy. Music opens...

That’s the beauty of living with art—it invites us into what I call the ritual of looking. Every day, the piece changes. Light shifts, mood shifts, even we shift. And in that shifting, a painting becomes something more than an object on the wall. To me, it becomes a living complexion. Complicated as it is simple. It becomes a mirror.