Reflections
2025
In these 9 artworks, I work with abstract shapes, rooted in emotions fostered by my faith. I also utilize several glass-like effects for cohesive storytelling.
All of these artworks are #MadeOniPad and Made on Mac.
The Ascent
Two years ago, I shared an artwork called “The Field of Dreams”, inspired by my move to a new city at the time. And it captures the idea that nomadic birds carry ‘home’ within themselves, no matter where they go. As I’m preparing to move again, I wanted to create a sequel to The Field of Dreams and conclude the “Reflections” collection of 9 artworks which I’ve been sharing over the past month.
The value of life isn’t in how much we keep, but in how much of ourselves we give — in love, kindness, faith, and the quiet things that can’t be bought or taken. Our souls are the only part of us that endures. What really matters is where we invest our hearts.
Midwinter Blaze
There’s a quiet ember that survives even the coldest season, hanging on, glowing softly beneath the frost.
Hope doesn’t always look like sunlight breaking through clouds. Sometimes, it’s a soft glow buried deep in the snow.
When winter comes and the world feels cold and drained of color, faith feeds that little flame with small kindnesses.
Faith does not promise escape from winter, but warmth that endures within it.
Resonance
A spark can grow into a current.
A tiny voice can turn into an echo.
What begins as surrender becomes strength.
When grace starts to move through you, layer by layer,
what once felt distant, expands within you,
steady and endlessly renewing.
Cascade
A path can look simple from a distance,
One clean line in one forward direction.
But the closer we get, the more the angles appear,
Layers that are only revealed when life tilts the light.
I've lived through seasons where momentum felt like grace,
I've lived through seasons where every curve asked for faith I wasn't sure I possessed.
We may only see a fraction of the journey's way,
But the path has already been carved.
Sometimes progress looks like circling in the dark,
Until you let faith carry,
And when you step back to see the full picture, you figure you've arrived.
Midautumn Bloom
There’s a certain kind of beauty that only exists because we can’t reach it. We can only witness it. And somehow, it changes the way we see everything else.
I’ve struggled my whole life to trust in what I cannot see. But this year, it’s become clearer than ever that in due season, the seeds of faith become the harvest.
Crystal Sublime
I used to think that faith needed proof. Something I could point to, something that could be explained, something that was loud, visible, and clear. But water teaches us that it can reflect the sky at its surface, yet hides heavy depths underneath.
I’ve come to realize that the most essential things in life are invisible to the eye.
The things that matter aren’t the most glittering and obvious. They don’t announce themselves. They don’t arrive with fanfare. I’ve learned it’s okay to trust what I feel, even when I can’t understand it. Faith is letting the quiet tide carry you away, even when you can’t see where it leads, knowing that you’ll reach where you need to be.
Mirage
Sometimes life feels like walking through a desert that never ends. Sun in your eyes, scorching heat, silence and loneliness echoing for miles. There’s doubt, deception, and the ache of wondering if hope was just a mirage your heart created to keep you moving.
But choosing faith means believing that somewhere in all this emptiness of the desert, there’s a well waiting to be found. You can’t see it yet, and you don’t have a map to it, but you walk anyway. Because even in the driest places, water hides beneath the dust, and only faith guides you where to dig.
Midsummer Bliss
A man climbed through a valley of green hills under a bright midsummer moon. Between the hills, below the moonlight, he saw a sphere floating in the air.
From above came a voice, calm and clear: “Climb up to me. The valley is full of temptations. It’s difficult, but if you climb above the sphere, you’ll find what you’re looking for.” From the valley came another voice: “Stay down here. Run freely through the hills. No rules, no promises, just freedom.”
The man looked up at the climb, then down at the easy valley. Then he looked at the sphere hovering between them. He laughed. “Why should I choose? I’ll just step into the sphere and have a little bit of both in the middle.” So he stepped inside. After some time, the sphere began to fog. The moonlight dimmed. He tried to see out, but the fog grew thicker. Then he heard the sphere cracking. The green valley disappeared. The man shouted, “Wait, no! I didn’t choose you! I didn’t choose to climb, but I didn’t choose the valley either. I chose the middle! I wanted both!” The sphere shattered, and he fell into darkness. The voice from below got louder and closer: “You think temptation is neutral ground? Every moment you spent in that sphere, you were choosing me.”
Atmospheric
One of the most awesome things about my birthday is that it always falls during the peak of the Perseids meteor shower. Every year, the night before, I step outside, look on up, and just take it all in.
I read recently that the odds of being born are 1 in 400 trillion. Just being here, alive, aware, able to open our eyes, able to witness light and the beauty of life is insanely rare when you think about it.
This year, my faith has meant everything to me. I’ve felt connected to God in a way I can’t fully explain. He’s been listening, guiding, and meeting me right in the middle of my struggles. I’ve felt comfort and trust and I’ve been able to get glimpses of light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.
I keep coming back to Matthew 13:44:
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.”